


Nobody's Hero

by wizqevelyn



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Gun Violence, Guns, I'm new here so if I need to add more tags let me know and I'll add them, M/M, Shooting Guns, Spoilers, War, aiballshipping, contains spoilers for ep 120, implied Datastormshipping, it's very sad but very good??, kinda sorta a songfic??, the what if Yusaku dropped into the timeline where he died and the world went to heck scenario, this is the sad timeline, vaguely canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2020-10-29 07:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizqevelyn/pseuds/wizqevelyn
Summary: A datastorm that somehow manifested in reality sucks Fujiki Yusaku into an alternate timeline where his death has led to an all out war in Den City between humans and SOLtis. Can his words reach Ai's heart before humanity is truly wiped out?LINK TO CHINESE TRANSLATION NOW AVAILABLE!LINK TO KOREAN TRANSLATIONS TO CH 1 AND 2 NOW AVAILABLE!





	1. Exordium

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [Nobody's hero-英雄无名](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414915) by [Taiko1999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taiko1999/pseuds/Taiko1999)

> So I started this idea as a thread on Twitter. It’s basically a “what happens when our Yusaku accidentally gets dropped into one of the alternate timelines where he died and AlternateTimeline!Ai went crazy and starts destroying/taking over the world?” BECAUSE IT’S DELICIOUS ANGST AND I WANT IT PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
> 
> Also, this entire AU is set to the music of Black Veil Brides’ album “Wretched and Divine: The Story of the Wild Ones” because I love that album and it PERFECTLY LINES UP for all the major plot points I want in this story. So I’ll be including relevant lyrics from the songs as I go. THE RETURN OF THE SONGFIC????? Listen, I cut my teeth on songfic so don’t knock it.
> 
> Alright. Enough from me. Hope you like it! 
> 
> A Chinese translation is available for this story! Please see the link to the related work up above. Thank you very much to Taiko1999 for your hard work translating this story!
> 
> A Korean translation of Chapters 1 and 2 is also available over here on [postype](https://sbm5661.postype.com/series/562249/nobody-39-s-hero)! Thank you sbm5661 for your hard work, as well!
> 
> -Evie :)

> _“The kingdom of god is inside you_  
_and all around you_  
_not in a mansion of wood and stone_  
_Split a piece of wood and god is there_  
_lift a stone and you will find god”_  
-_**Exordium**, Black Veil Brides_  


__

Yusaku knew exactly two things when he came to.

The first thing he knew was that his head _pounded_ like a timpani drummer banging out the unspecified loud noise of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. It throbbed _so_ badly that he feared opening his eyes lest he vomit and continued to lay wherever he was with his eyes held tightly shut.

The second thing he knew was that his right wrist and hand were on fire. Not literally, he hoped, but agony rippled through the limb with each and every tiny movement he made that he honestly wasn’t quite sure. Nothing smelled like it was burning, at least, but given the hammering in his skull at the moment, perhaps his sense of smell was just too dull.

He tried very, very hard to lie still to keep the all the pain to a minimum, but was having little success. The pain was quite belligerent. He clenched his teeth so hard to keep from squirming that he was quite certain they would soon be ground into powder. He wasn’t sure if his wrist was broken and was honestly too afraid to try moving it, if only because vomiting was still a very real threat, and one he very much did not want to see carried out.

At some point, however, he was going to _have_ to open his eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was at the present moment and would only be able to figure that out by looking around. The last thing he remembered was entering a dim and dingy warehouse, hot on Ai’s trail thanks to the scanner app he’d built and integrated into his Duel Disk. It was designed to home in on the A.I.’s data signature, and his heart had nearly leapt into his throat when it began beeping without warning earlier this evening.

Was it still even evening? He had no idea how long he’d lain unconscious. Another reason he knew he would eventually have to open his eyes and get his bearings. He shifted slightly, and a spike of pain drilled deeper into his skull, informing him of how bad that decision was. What had hit him? He tried to remember, but the only images his currently mushy brain could produce was the door to the dingy warehouse looming before him before the glass window shattered under his towel-wrapped fist. And then he got a strong image of the inside of the warehouse—an empty place filled with broken furniture, dust and silt, and a thick layer of moldy cobwebs.

Yet the beeping from his Duel Disk grew stronger the further inside the warehouse he traveled, so he followed it, hardly able to believe that after just two short weeks, his search might be over. What would he say when he found Ai? What _could_ he say? There were so many emotions swirling up confusedly inside of him that even now as he lay in this unidentified place, anxious butterflies began to swarm in his belly.

Or maybe that was just caused by the nausea from the ache in his wrist. It was hard to tell.

And then what had happened? He strained to recall, but the throbbing in his head and his wrist were growing so distracting that it was incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything else at all. Fortunately, he was quite used to pushing past overwhelming pain and queasiness thanks to the things he’d endured during the Lost Incident as a child, so he took a few deep, steadying breaths and named three things he needed to learn about his situation:

1\. He had to figure out where he was.  
2\. He had to figure out how he’d gotten here.  
3\. He would have to seek out some help for his injuries.

He had no answer for number 1, but the potential answer for number 2 suddenly came to him in a flash: the datastorm. It had come out of nowhere and had caught him completely off guard. And why wouldn’t it? How could a datastorm manifest in the real world?? Even now, it still didn’t make any sense. But he knew those familiar blue and purple swirls of data anywhere, and could no more deny what he had seen and experienced than he could the pain in his wrist and head.

The storm had whipped everything around him into a frenzy, sending debris and dust and anything else not tied down flying—including, he soon recalled, Yusaku himself. He remembered the sound of impact as he’d crashed against the warehouse’s steel coated wall, and then nothing more.

Well, that certainly explained his injuries. What it didn’t explain, however, was where he was. There was the sensation of soft ground under him, and the smell of wet earth filled his nostrils. The warehouse had definitely possessed a distinct, stale odor and it had a concrete floor. Something wasn’t adding up.

It was then with great reluctance and all the courage he could muster that Yusaku finally opened his eyes.

He immediately regretted it as sunlight knifed into his retinas, flaring up his headache so angrily that he forgot all about the burning pain in his right wrist for a full minute. He could not help the low groan that escaped him. Who did he have to speak to about turning off the sun for awhile?

It was clear from the position of the sun directly overhead that he had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next day — provided that wherever he was still operated on a 24-hour schedule. He wasn’t about to rule out the possibility of having been transported to another planet. Weirder things had happened to him in recent times.

And he definitely wasn’t in Den City anymore, he quickly decided after peeking around as much as he could without moving his head too much. He lay flat on his back in an open field of dirt and blue flowers. The sky was a piercing shade of blue and a few fluffy white clouds rolled lackadaisically past. To his right somewhere, a tree shivered in the wind, and the flowers swayed and bobbed in a frantic dance around the edges of his vision.

There was something very odd about the sky, he realized a moment later; an odd, shimmery quality that he initially had dismissed as heat waves from the sun. But it wasn’t particularly hot where he lay, and the shimmering effect seemed to be less caused by natural phenomenon and more by something almost alien. He watched the motion as closely as he could, which was difficult given the brightness of the sun, but he soon determined that there were very clear patterns streaking across the sky that reminded him very strongly of the traces in a circuit board.

Yup. He was definitely not in Den City anymore.

So, where was he? The only way he was going to find out was by getting to his feet and trying to find the nearest town.

Easier said than done, he mused. He spent a moment checking himself out. He wiggled his toes, then his feet, then bent his legs at the knees and hips. Everything seemed to be in good working order there. His fingers and wrist on his left hand also seemed to work fine, as did his left elbow and shoulder. He was not even going to bother with trying his right hand; it was still making its status abundantly clear to him.

Finally, he turned his head from side to side slowly. It made his head swish in a rather nauseating way, but he bit down on the discomfort. Everything except for his right hand and wrist seemed to be alright, and so he carefully lifted his head from the ground and slowly worked his way up to a sitting position.

He paused as a wave of nausea hit him and took this opportunity to reach back behind his head to determine where the pain seemed to be emanating from. He winced as his fingers brushed a generous goose egg. Yeowch. There could be no doubt that he likely had a serious concussion. He felt lucky to have woken up at all.

But his hand came away free of blood, and the pain was no longer bad enough that he couldn’t get up and walk. He gave himself one last mental pep talk before rolling to his left knee and pushing himself up onto his feet. He paused to take a better look at his surroundings.

His eyes widened in shock. What lay just beyond his tranquil field of blue flowers and soft earth was a graveyard of twisted and contorted skyscrapers, bent and broken almost beyond all recognition. But somehow in his gut, Yusaku knew he was looking at the remains of his own Den City.

But…if this was Den City, then how did he…?

He spun about, searching the ground beneath his feet more thoroughly, and soon he spotted it — a bare patch of polished concrete not yet reclaimed by soil and moss. Nearby, the skeletal remains of the warehouse’s steel beams gleamed in the sunlight through a thick cover of creeping vines and underbrush.

Yusaku blinked rapidly. Exactly how long had he been unconscious?? Had he Rip-van-Winkled himself into some far-flung future??

The answer to that question would have to wait, it seemed, for the distinct sound of a rifle hammer being cocked came from somewhere very close behind him. He stiffened on instinct and made to turn to face this new threat, but the barrel of the rifle suddenly dug into his lower back and he froze instantly.

“Don’t move,” an unfamiliar voice growled at him.


	2. I Am Bulletproof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusaku begins to realize he might not be in Kansas anymore and is taken to a refugee camp in the hopes of getting some answers.

> _ “Here we go! _  
_ Holding on to lies_  
_ Holding on to ties that vanish_  
_ Cut the rope_  
_ And fall into the sky_  
_ The Devil fills our minds with sadness_  
_ The world's a gun and I've been aiming all my life_  
_ Got something to live for_  
_ I know that I won't surrender_  
_ A warrior of youth_  
_ I'm taking over_  
_ A shock to the new world order_  
_ I am bulletproof!” _  
_ **-I Am Bulletproof**, Black Veil Brides_

“Don’t move.”

Yusaku wanted to point out to his assailant how extremely pointless that order was, because with a rifle digging into his spine like that, he was extremely disinclined to do anything even remotely resembling movement. However, speaking also seemed like an extremely bad idea, so instead, he simply remained silent.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.”

He felt a warning jab in his back.

“_Slowly._”

Obediently, Yusaku raised his hands up to hover on either side of his head where they would be in plain view. He winced as his right wrist objected to the motion, but stubbornly ground his teeth and willed the throb back down to a reasonable level. The rifle barrel dug further into his spine, and he might have hissed in pain if his tongue were not locked tight against the roof of his mouth.

“A Duelist, huh? Don’t you know possession of a Duel Disk is illegal around these parts?”

_Interesting_, Yusaku wanted to retort by wisely continued to keep his thoughts to himself.

He felt the gun shift slightly, and then a gloved hand appeared in his peripheral vision. It grabbed his left wrist, tugging his arm back at a painful angle as his assailant fumbled to unlock the Duel Disk from Yusaku’s wrist. The Disk disappeared from sight and suddenly Yusaku felt infinitely more vulnerable without it — not that playing cards stood much of a chance against bullets, of course, but it was a security blanket of sorts, he supposed.

The pressure from the barrel against his spine released, then, and he heard the man behind him take a few cautious steps back.

“Alright. Turn around. _Slowly_.”

Yusaku once again did as he was told, shifting his feet carefully, hands still held high, until he was fully facing his assailant.

The man was no one he recognized, but he didn’t seem much older than Yusaku himself. Messy green hair peeked out from under his military-style helmet. He wore a simple tactical uniform of nondescript greys and blues. The set of his face was grim, and his eyes were as hard as steel as he and Yusaku stood studying each other wordlessly. Yusaku’s eyes flitted briefly to the man’s belt, noting that he’d hooked his Duel Disk there, but they soon returned to lock gazes with the man once more.

The barrel of the gun suddenly shifted towards the middle of Yusaku’s chest.

“What’s your name?”

“Fujiki. Fujiki Yusaku,” Yusaku replied immediately.

There was no point in lying. He knew his name would mean nothing to this stranger; it never did. He’d worked hard to cultivate his reputation as a nobody to keep his double life as Playmaker a secret.

He was quite stunned, therefore, when the man suddenly gripped his gun tightly and took aim at a spot somewhere between Yusaku’s eyes.

“Very funny, jackass. Everyone knows Fujiki Yusaku died two years ago. What’s your _real_ name? And you’d better tell the truth this time.”

_Interesting_, Yusaku wanted to say again, but this time he didn’t because his throat had gone dry with shock. He swallowed nervously for a moment, trying to comprehend what the man had just said.

_…Fujiki Yusaku died two years ago…_

“I…” he fumbled helplessly in the face of the man’s growing impatience. “But…that _is_ my real name…”

The man growled and his finger teased the trigger in warning.

“Think you’re a _real funny guy_, huh, punk?”

How to explain to this man that not only was he _not_ being the _least bit_ funny right now, but that Yusaku was so incredibly _unfunny_ that he had never told a single joke in his entire life? It was moments like this when he missed Ai most of all. The tiny Ignis had proven so much better at the verbal tennis than he that it had been something of a relief to allow him to take over the witty banter…

He opened his mouth to reply when a voice cut across the open field:

“Sergeant Kirogana! _What_ in blue blazes are you _doing_?!”

The words had the effect like a whip crack. Sergeant Kirogana stiffened reflexively, nearly going to full attention, but managed to resist the reflexive urge and kept his gun trained on Yusaku, instead, as another man approached from somewhere behind the dilapidated remains of the warehouse. 

The newcomer wore a uniform similar to Kirogana, but with a single golden star embroidered above his left breast pocket, a clear denotation of rank. His own rifle was slung over one shoulder, still within easy reach but clearly not the man’s preferred method of interacting with the world. He had kind grey-green eyes and laugh lines around the corners of his mouth which were nearly buried under what appeared to be a week’s worth of greying scruff. He came to a stop beside Kirogana, folding his hands across his chest and assuming the stance more appropriate to a disapproving father than of a commanding officer.

“Well, Sergeant??” he spoke again. “I asked you a question!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Kirogana agreed out of habit. He gestured at Yusaku with his gun. “I found this suspicious kid loitering in this area, Commander.”

“He looks like any other refugee to me,” the Commander replied, taking in Yusaku’s rumpled and dusty school uniform with little interest. “What makes him so suspicious? You did a scan to see if he was human, right?”

“Of course, sir, but…he had a Duel Disk, sir.”

The Commander gave Yusaku a second, slightly more impressed look. 

“So, you’re a Duelist,” he said, but Yusaku remained silent for the moment, choosing to observe the two a bit longer. His ignorance of the environment around him could cost him if he was too careless. Better to be safe than sorry, especially with a gun pointed to his head.

“There’s more, sir,” Kirogana interrupted before the Commander could say anything else. He adjusted his grip on his gun, once more drawing a bead on Yusaku’s forehead. “He claims to be Fujiki Yusaku.”

“Fujiki—?!”

The Commander’s eyes flew back to Yusaku for the third time, and this time they held a little less friendliness and a lot more caution. Yusaku met his gaze evenly but still did not speak. He licked his lips. There was nothing he could say to defend himself, and he understood so little of what was going on that he felt it best not to try. His heart hammered against his ribs as the Commander slowly scanned his appearance again, as if trying to better assess what sort of threat Yusaku might be. Finally, the Commander sighed.

“We’ll take him back to base with us and let the higher ups decide what to do with him,” he said to Kirogana. “Cuff him and put him in the truck for now.”

Kirogana nodded and shifted his gun back to one hand with expert ease, producing a pair of Plasticuffs from somewhere on the back of his belt. He approached Yusaku slowly.

“No sudden moves,” he warned, and then grasped Yusaku’s right wrist.

A cry of pain tore loose from Yusaku’s mouth almost immediately. He nearly swooned as the fire reignited in his wrist with angry vengeance. Kirogana released him in surprise and Yusaku dropped to his knees with a gasp, bringing his throbbing limb up tight to his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth one more to ward off the pain again.

“What did you _do_?!” he distantly heard the Commander shout.

“Nothing!! I think he’s hurt!” Kirogana replied, sounding baffled.

“Kid, are you alright?! What’s wrong?!”

Yusaku took a few deep breaths before he could unclench his jaw enough to speak without risking vomiting. 

“Wrist,” was all he could manage, however, voice coming out in a croak. “…h-hurts.”

He heard Kirogana swear under his breath and then say, “I didn’t know!” defensively before two large hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“Easy, son,” the Commander said quietly. “You’re gonna be okay. We have a medical team back at base; they can take a look at your wrist. Can you walk?”

Yusaku took a few more breaths, and then nodded, pushing himself back up onto his feet determinedly.

“Attaboy,” the Commander enthused with a few gentle pats on his back. “Come on.”

“Sir?” Kirogana called after him confusedly, gesturing with his Plasticuffs, but the Commander waved them off.

“Forget it. You’re not gonna give us any trouble, are you, kid?”

_Not with those guns you’re carrying_, Yusaku wanted to say, but was worried he might still throw up, so he only nodded. 

“Attaboy. Let’s go, Sergeant.”

The Commander put a hand on his shoulder and gently steered him through the flowers and around the back of the warehouse. Kirogana fell in line behind them, and Yusaku soon turned his thoughts to his upcoming encounter with the aforementioned “higher ups” as the truck — a very squat and practical military vehicle — came into sight up ahead. What would he say? How to explain that he really _was_ Fujiki Yusaku when it was evident no one would believe him?

What was becoming alarmingly clear to him was that, while he was in _a_ Den City, he was quite sure it wasn’t _his_ Den City. So, what, exactly, was this place?

Ai’s voice suddenly floated through his head.

_“I told you. I didn’t fight you in the simulation…I saw it. What my existence will lead to. You get dragged into it and perish…”_

He suppressed a sudden shiver and felt cold to the bone. Was this, then, some sort of alternate timeline, one where he had been killed like in Ai’s simulations? 

He needed more information, he decided as he climbed inside the truck and took a seat on one of the benches lining its reinforced walls. There were a few more men and women already inside the vehicle, all dressed like the Commander and Kirogana. They gave him a few curious glances, but he paid them no heed, too lost in his own thoughts. Where was he? And how in the world would he get back home to his own timeline? _Could_ he return to his own timeline? Or was this all some sort of ridiculous dream from which he’d soon wake?

He winced as the truck suddenly bumped to life, jostling his injured wrist roughly. This pain felt almost too real to be a dream, and he noted with some concern that his wrist was rapidly growing more swollen by the second. He hoped it wasn’t broken but wouldn’t know for sure until he reached the medical team at the base camp. And hopefully, he’d be able to find the answers to his more troubling questions there, as well. For now, though, he could only sit quietly and cradle his wrist and keep his head down as much as possible while he tried to sort through his present predicament.

The drive to the camp proved to be surprisingly short, perhaps no more than 15 or 20 minutes. Yusaku nearly slipped off the bench when the military truck lurched to a sudden halt, and then watched, bewildered, as the men and women inside the truck began to gather all of the crates and items surrounding them, clearly preparing to debark. The Commander approached him with an easy smile and Yusaku’s Duel Disk in one hand, and put his free hand on Yusaku’s shoulder once more.

“Time to go, son,” the man said.

Yusaku rose and walked down the gangplank back into the sunshine.

He was staggered by the sight that soon lay before him. Against a backdrop of rubble and the withered, twisted husks of once proud skyscrapers were scattered a countless number of tents. Some seemed new and as of yet untouched by wear and tear, while others looked like they had been set up for some time. All were surrounded by men, women, and children with haggard, hunted looks on their dirty faces. Many wore bandages, stark flashes of white in a sea of color, and Yusaku could see medics — clearly marked by the large black caduceus symbols emblazoned on the backs of their uniforms — moving through the masses distributing medicine, food, and water as they went.

“A terrible sight, isn’t it?” the Commander asked as he steered Yusaku through the throngs of people. “All refugees. That blasted SOLtis would have killed hundreds more if not for the Knights of Hanoi.”

Gooseflesh erupted across Yusaku’s skin at those words. SOLtis? Hanoi? What could it possibly mean?? Yusaku desperately needed answers.

The Commander suddenly pulled Yusaku to a stop in front of a large tent — much larger and more prestigious than the rest. Clearly this tent belonged to the “higher ups” of the camp. Were those “higher ups” the Knights of Hanoi? And more troubling still...would they be someone he might recognize? 

The Commander gestured for Yusaku to remain where he was and then moved off a step to whisper something to one of the armed guards outside the tent. The guard eyed Yusaku very curiously and lifted his gun to a readied position, but he did not yet aim it at Yusaku. The message was clear, however: one wrong move, and the man wouldn’t hesitate to use that gun.

Yusaku swallowed nervously.

With one final glance behind him to ensure the boy had not moved, the Commander disappeared inside the tent, Yusaku’s Duel Disk still in his hand.

Minutes ticked by. Yusaku shifted his weight slightly, but otherwise did not move from his spot. He tried to keep as non-threatening a demeanor as possible while looking around at the various people milling about the camp, but a deep and all-too-familiar voice soon drew his attention back to the tent.

“—and I assure you, Commander,” Revolver was saying impatiently as he swept aside the tent flap with a furious flourish. He was now the one holding Yusaku’s Duel Disk, Yusaku noted, heart straining against his ribs once more. The nervous Commander followed a step behind Revolver, stuttering desperately, but the Hanoi Leader wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise.

“If this is no more than some petty prank, I will make it my _personal_ priority to strip you of—!”

Whatever it was Revolver was going to say died on his lips the moment his lavender eyes landed on Yusaku. His expression went from annoyed to horrified in an instant, and Yusaku’s Duel Disk slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers to land in the dirt at his feet.

Yusaku licked his lips.

“Hello, Revolver,” he said.


	3. New Year's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusaku learns a bit more about what's been going on and maybe wishes he hadn't.

> _ ”On the graves of the ones remembered_  
_ In a desert we call home_  
_ All the slaves of the cold December_  
_ Find a voice to call their own” _  
_ \- **New Year’s Day**, Black Veil Brides _

“…it’s definitely not broken,” the medic was saying as Revolver held the X-Ray of Yusaku’s wrist up to the light to examine it more closely. “But it’s a very bad sprain. I’ll wrap it for you, but you might even need a sling to keep from moving it too much. It’ll take a few days to fully heal.”

Yusaku nodded. His wrist, resting on a small folding table under an ice pack, was beginning to feel some measure of relief but still retained a more distant throb.

“I’d…give you something for the pain,” she continued delicately, “but our supplies are low and— “

“It’s alright,” Yusaku interrupted. “This is enough. I appreciate it.”

She looked immensely relieved at his understanding. Although he had not seen it yet, he knew there were probably patients out in the camp who needed that pain medication more than he did. He could manage just fine with an ice pack or two. As if they were riding the same wavelength, the medic said, “You’ll want to ice it every few hours to keep the swelling down. This compression bandage should help with that, and also should help stabilize it a lot more.”

She reached into her bag to pull out the bandage, and took a step towards Yusaku, but Revolver intercepted her, taking the bandage from her hand swiftly.

“Thank you, Doctor. I can take it from here. I know you have many other patients who need your attention more.”

The medic seemed surprised by this, looking up at the Hanoi Leader in something close to open challenge. But she must have seen something in his expression, for a moment later she merely offered him a quick salute, then gave a small wave to Yusaku before stepping out of the tent.

And just like that, he was suddenly all alone with Revolver.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Revolver turned towards him but stood where he was, as if transfixed. He studied Yusaku in that very careful way he studied everything, and Yusaku wasn’t sure what he might be thinking. He took a quick assessment of the Hanoi Leader while he had the chance. The Revolver before him was 20 years of age but only slightly different from the Revolver he knew; a bit broader in the shoulders, perhaps? But he wore the same updated avatar Yusaku had last seen him in, and his eyes, so sharp and alert behind his trademark visor, were just as Yusaku remembered them. There was, however, a distinct note of gravity in the man’s stance; he had the air of a leader carrying heavy burdens, and having gotten a glimpse of what lay just beyond the canvas walls of this tent, Yusaku could fully appreciate just what those burdens must be. 

He let the man’s gaze pour over him a little while longer before letting out a sigh, which somehow seemed to break whatever spell was holding Revolver rooted to his spot. He grabbed a nearby stool, then, and placed it in front of Yusaku’s table.

“As you might imagine,” he said, picking his words as carefully as he lifted the ice pack from Yusaku’s wrist, “I have a lot of questions. The first of which being…how are you still alive??”

Yusaku winced slightly, but whether it was in reaction to the question or to the pain, he would never be entirely sure.

“I’m…not sure how to explain that,” he began hesitantly. 

His eyes felt glued to Revolver’s gloved hands as they began to work at unrolling part of the bandage, finding the idea of meeting his gaze extremely discomfiting. Their close proximity was extremely discomfiting, actually. He squinted as if in thought, trying to focus solely on choosing his next words and not on the odd sort of tenderness Revolver was showing him.

“I-I…don’t think I’m from _here_ at all. I’m not even sure what I mean by that, if I’m being honest, but…the best way I can explain it is that I think I am either from _your_ past or from another dimension altogether.”

It sounded completely insane, hearing his own theory out loud, but if anyone would believe him, it would be Revolver. And, indeed; after a slight pause for consideration, the man was soon nodding as if in deep understanding of Yusaku’s words.

“That would certainly explain why you’re not only alive but unchanged after two years.”

Yusaku was glad it seemed to make sense to at least _one_ of them, even if it wasn’t him. He hissed slightly as Revolver took his hand into one of his.

“Sorry.”

He did his best to wrap the bandage as gently but as tightly as he could, and Yusaku did his best not to squirm too much.

“Do you remember how you got here?” Revolver asked.

“A datastorm, I think. But…how or why it manifested in the real world, I have no idea.”

Revolver’s mouth became a thin little line as he considered Yusaku’s words.

“It could have been a flashback from this dimension. Link VRAINS and the real world were merged into one here. Datastorms are not so uncommon around here now.”

Yusaku mind flashed back to the strange patterns he’d seen cutting across the sky earlier.

“Merged with Link VRAINS?” he blurted. “How…how is such a thing possible??”

“I don’t know. No one seems to know how it was done…except the Ignis.”

He seemed to spit out that last word with a very particular distaste. Yusaku’s mind whirled. Was he referring to Ai??

“Why did he merge the worlds?” he found himself asking before he could catch himself.

“Unclear. Initially, I believed it was to make it easier for the Ignis to Duel with us, but then he outlawed Dueling and began hunting down each and every Duelist he could get his hands on. I assume at this point he merely did it to make it easier for him to monitor us. He has eyes everywhere.”

Yusaku was having an extremely hard time processing what was being said. Ai merging the worlds? Outlawing Dueling and hunting down Duelists? None of it made any sense! This didn’t sound anything like Ai at all.

But, he reminded himself, reflecting on the last few weeks and that final Duel with Ai. Perhaps it was not so out of character, if he had certain motivations…

“Revolver,” he said in a grave tone, capturing the man’s gaze and halting his movements. “Why did all of this start? What happened?”

For a long moment, Revolver did not answer him. It almost seemed as if the man did not want to, and that put Yusaku even more on edge. But then he set Yusaku’s hand back down on the table, pinning the bandages so that his hard work would not unravel. He turned to the desk behind him, digging through paperwork and other various items until he was able to uncover a small tablet. His fingers began moving across the tablet’s screen as he spoke.

“Two years ago, the Ignis known as Ai stole a SOLtis body from SOL Technologies in order to live among humans more closely. However, the government soon became very interested in him, given that he was an A.I. with free will. It is believed they intended to weaponize him. They hired SOL Technologies to track him down, which obviously led to an altercation, resulting in hostilities that dragged on for months.”

From his tone, it sounded like he’d given this report many times. Yusaku listened raptly, afraid to miss any details that might explain how and why he’d been brought to this place. Revolver was still fiddling with something on the tablet, clearly trying to pull something up. He frowned and tapped his fingers impatiently on his knee as he waited for it to load. Yusaku tried to unobtrusively spy what it was in the reflection of Revolver’s visor, but the man suddenly looked up and locked gazes with him again.

“The fighting wasn’t quite to the level of destruction and mayhem we experience today, but it was brutal. The Ignis somehow discovered a way to manifest his Duel cards in the real world and was able to effect real damage. The government soon decided that the Ignis was simply too powerful and too dangerous to be allowed to exist. They issued the order for him to be terminated, and it culminated in a final showdown with SOL that nearly took out an entire city block.”

Revolver’s eyes dropped back to the tablet’s screen and Yusaku could see the hesitation in him. The hair began to stand up on the back of his neck. When Revolver finally handed him the tablet, he took it with a growing feeling of dread.

“That’s when it happened,” Revolver said quietly. “You…the Fujiki Yusaku of this dimension stepped in and tried to negotiate peace, and it all seemed to be going well. But…then you were…I mean, _he_ was gunned down by a soldier on SOL’s front line. An accident, they claimed. We all saw it happen; they were broadcasting the battle live on national television.”

A newspaper article was queued up on the screen when Yusaku finally took a good look at the tablet. Its headline chilled him to his very core.

_HIGH-SCHOOL STUDENT SLAIN IN SOL/SOLtis CONFRONTATION GONE WRONG_

_Today, the ongoing conflict between SOL Technologies and the SOLtis entity known as ‘Ai’ took a tragic turn. A high-school freshman recently identified by classmates as Fujiki Yusaku (16) was gunned down after a failed attempt to negotiate with..._

He stopped reading. The photo from his student ID stared up at him somberly. Yusaku’s mouth went dry and the gears in his brain were spinning wildly as he tried to make sense of all of this. He had very little success.

“The Ignis went berserk almost immediately,” Revolver said softly after some time, drawing Yusaku’s attention back to him. He began wrapping Yusaku’s wrist again. “He attacked and destroyed SOL’s army, allowing none of them to escape. He chased them all the way back to SOL’s headquarters, and destroyed that, too, killing everyone inside. No one survived. Shortly after that, he erected a fortress on the very ruins of SOL Technologies and figured out some way to make Link VRAINS and the real world one.”

Revolver scowled deeply, glaring at something Yusaku could not see.

“He seized total control of the city. Every network and news program was taken over one by one until he had them all. He slaughtered every last city council member and every last judge and declared himself an emperor. And then he declared war on the entire human race. He has no intention of letting any of us live, not in Den City. Not anywhere. He wants to wipe out the whole world. And after two long years, he’s nearly wiped out all of Den City. This refugee camp is the only sanctuary these people have left, and he’s made it very clear to us that it won’t be too much longer before he comes for this place, too.”

Yusaku was shaking his head in disbelief before Revolver even finished speaking.

“That’s insane! This can’t all be because of…!”

He couldn’t finish that thought. His eyes drifted back to the tablet, to the picture of himself, to the words written indelibly on the screen. _Fujiki Yusaku (16)…gunned down…_

A long silence stretched between them. Revolver fastened the bandage quietly, but his fingers lingered on Yusaku’s wrist for a long moment.

“It seems you were the lynchpin for a lot of things,” he said quietly.

Yusaku stared at him, heart thudding against his ribs so fiercely he was certain the man could hear it. What did he mean by that? Ai’s final words played through his head once more.

_”I saw it…what my existence will lead to. You get dragged into it and perish. I can’t choose that future…”_

Is this, he thought, the future the Ai of his dimension had fought him to prevent?

He suddenly couldn’t breathe. The world was spinning, and his chest was tightening with frightening suddenness. Had all the tragedy, all the destruction he’d seen just outside of Revolver’s tent really happened because of his death? And more than that…what…what had such a thing done to the man sitting before him? What other consequences were ahead for him to learn? It all felt like a horrible nightmare, suddenly; nothing felt real and he felt like he was slipping out of reach of reality.

“Ryoken…” he whispered without thinking, almost as if looking for something tangible to grasp onto.

Revolver heard it, and he startled a bit, blinking rapidly at Yusaku for several moments. Then, a soft, wistful sort of look fell over his face, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“…I haven’t been called that for some time,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to Yusaku.

He replaced the ice pack over Yusaku’s wrist and stood up, moving to a crate at the side of his desk and retrieving a large bottle of water from inside it. He remained there for a moment, his back to Yusaku, holding the bottle close to his chest and staring out once more at something Yusaku could not see.

“Kogami Ryoken also died on that day,” he said softly. “Only Revolver remains now…”

He returned to his stool, then, and offered the water to Yusaku, who accepted it numbly. 

For a long time, neither of them said a word. Revolver seemed to be giving Yusaku as much space as he could to allow him to process all that he had been told privately, and for that, Yusaku was grateful. He took some deep, steadying breaths, trying to get his equilibrium back. It would be fine. Perhaps this would all turn out to be some sort of horrible dream in the end. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling, however, that this was not a dream. 

“We’ll need to figure out some way to get you back home to your own dimension,” Revolver spoke up finally, as if reading Yusaku’s thoughts in that uncanny way he always seemed to. “Perhaps if we can figure out how the datastorm brought you here, we can use that to send you back.”

Yusaku nodded, hardly listening, still a bit shell shocked by all he had learned so far. He felt very old and very tired suddenly, a familiar bone-deep weariness that seemed to settle over him every time he felt himself faced with some great and impending confrontation. He was about to ask Revolver for more information when a mousy, uniformed man suddenly burst into the tent.

“Lord Revolver!” the man squeaked, and Yusaku saw Revolver wince a bit at the title before smoothing out his expression once more.

“Speak,” the Hanoi Leader commanded gruffly.

It took the officer a moment to find his breath, but when he did, it turned Yusaku’s blood to ice.

“Sir, the 6th Quadrant is under attack! It’s SOLdiers, sir!!”


	4. Wretched and Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusaku learns the horrors of war and the rules of engagement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...writing Duel dialogue is...the least natural thing I've ever done...

> _“We expect the battle for humanity is about to begin. Within each uprising, a vague sense of safety will ignite in you an unseen shadowy sliver of doubt towards those who protect and defend you. Let the thoughts slip away and remain calm. Stay close to F.E.A.R. Only we can protect…”_
> 
> _-**F.E.A.R. Transmission #1: Stay Close, **Black Veil Brides_
> 
> _“I am the chosen, wretched and divine…”_
> 
> _-**Wretched and Divine, **Black Veil Brides_

“Sir, the 6th Quadrant is under attack! It’s SOLdiers, sir!!”

Revolver swore and instantly leapt to his feet, rushing from the tent without another word, sweeping the messenger up in his wake. Yusaku quickly followed, grabbing his Duel Disk off the bench beside him and clamped it to his left wrist immediately.

“When did this start?!” Revolver was demanding as Yusaku caught up, almost practically having to run to keep pace with the man.

“About 10 minutes ago!! Blue Maiden is already in the area, but she reports that she and Soulburner are being overwhelmed. They’re requesting backup!!”

Yusaku’s heart jumped into his mouth. _Blue Maiden! Soulburner!!_

“Then we will give them some,” was Revolver’s reply as he rushed to hop onto a truck that was idling on the edge of the camp. As soon as he sprang aboard, it began to move.

Desperate not to be left behind, Yusaku ran past the startled messenger and jumped, grasping the handle on the left side of the truck and pulling himself inside. He had no more than grabbed the overhead railing inside the truck for stability when he found himself face to face with Revolver’s angry scowl.

“What do you think you’re doing?! Get off this truck!!”

Yusaku met his scowl with an unflinching look of his own.

“No. I want to help.”

“You cannot! You are _injured_ and have not been authorized for this mission!! _Get_ _off_ _the_ _truck_!”

Yusaku continued to hold Revolver’s gaze stubbornly, even lifting his chin in open challenge.

“_No_.”

If Revolver wanted him off this truck, he would have to throw him. As expected, the man was furious, sputtering uselessly as he tried to come up with some kind of argument Yusaku might listen to. But soon, he simply shook his head and let out a frustrated noise.

“Stubborn as _always_,” he muttered. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course,” Yusaku agreed, doing his best to keep from gloating too much.

They spoke no more as the truck raced away from the camp, the tents soon becoming no more than tan squares on the horizon behind them. Yusaku was still boggled over the total devastation he was seeing in the city around him. Had Ai always been capable of this much violence? It was difficult to imagine. He’d always seemed more playfully chaotic and mischievous, not outright violent. Yusaku chewed anxiously at his lower lip. Even when he’d attacked Queen and Akira to take their key codes, he’d at least Dueled them both honorably. Had Yusaku’s death truly driven the Ai of this dimension to something as awful as murder??

He didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he turned towards Revolver.

“Back in the tent, your officer said something about…soldiers? Is there something special about these?” he asked.

“SOLdiers are modified SOLtis,” Revolver replied. “Unlike the original SOLtis, which were made simply to house basic A.I. and serve humans, SOLdiers are designed to house weapon-grade A.I. for combat. They have exactly one purpose: kill humans on sight.”

Yusaku swallowed.

“They are also all equipped with identical @Ignister Decks. Fortunately, they are not exceedingly clever. From what we can tell, they share a hive mind, making them very poor Duelists.”

“So, you use Duelists to engage them,” Yusaku said, picking up the thread. He rested his right hand against his chin in thought. “That’s probably why Ai outlawed Dueling. If his SOLdiers are no match for skilled Duelists, he’d try to overwhelm lower level ones or non-Duelists through sheer numbers.”

Revolver looked over at him in surprise for a moment before a smirk broke out over his face.

“I forgot how much I have always appreciated your insights,” he said.

Yusaku felt heat on his neck at such a compliment and could only hope it didn’t show on his face.

“We’re here,” Revolver said a moment later. “Get ready.”

Yusaku could hear the sounds of combat just outside the steel walls of the truck. He heard, too, the cries of people fleeing in terror, and an uneasy feeling gripped his heart. Revolver hopped out of the truck almost before it stopped moving, landing with easy grace on the uneven terrain. As Yusaku stepped forward to follow, Revolver suddenly pointed at him warningly.

“I may have let you tag along to see for yourself what’s going on, but I will _not _allow you to enter combat; not when you don’t know what you’re up against. _Stay with the truck_. I will tie you to it if I have to. _Stay here_.”

Yusaku felt his temper flare briefly, but he swallowed it along with his pride and only nodded. He knew Revolver was right; he understood too little of what was going on that he’d probably be nothing more than a distraction they could not afford. He would stay with the truck. Revolver gave him a grateful nod in return and rushed away. The driver followed after him, and when they were out of sight, Yusaku hopped out of the truck to come stand before it’s cab so that he could look out over the battle below.

Yusaku had been through many grueling and downright painful Duels, but even those had been tidy and orderly affairs with clear rules for engagement. What he saw before him was pure chaos. He watched in horror as hundreds of civilians ran screaming from gunfire and Monster attacks, scattering desperately into the rubble around them to get away. He recognized immediately the various Fodder and Boss @Ignister monsters giving chase. Their attacks sent rubble flying everywhere, or set fire to already ruined structures, further destabilizing them. One such structure gave way, and Yusaku could hear the screams of the people trapped inside, dying.

He started to look away, sickened by what he was seeing, but then he caught a faint glimmer of movement, and saw a figure burst through the wreckage in an elegant and graceful twirl. It was a winged woman in a blue dress, her long blonde hair spiraling out behind her from a high ponytail.

_Holly Angel_.

Yusaku watched as a long, golden, whip-like morning star appeared in her hand. She sent the spiked red ball swinging across the group of @Ignisters, and they immediately broke apart into dust, clearing the area in one fell swoop. She swung the morning star again, knocking aside the burning rubble that had trapped the helpless humans and waved them on. As they fled in terror, she flew away on her delicate white wings to help the next group.

Yusaku’s heart was pounding. He scanned the area, desperate for any glimpse of Blue Maiden, but his attention was immediately arrested by what appeared to be a fireball careening wildly his direction. He acted on instinct, throwing himself as far behind a nearby boulder as he could before the searing impact slammed into the truck, shaking the ground and sending bits of metal and debris flying. He lifted his head a moment later and watched as a smoldering tire rolled lazily past, the last journey it would ever take.

Yusaku scrambled to his feet, heart in his mouth. _Time to move._ He hurried off in the direction Revolver and the driver had disappeared to, quickly coming across the Hanoi Leader, who stood watching the battle below him closely. He heard Yusaku’s approach and scowled over his shoulder.

“I thought I told you to stay with the truck!” he snapped.

“I did. Truck didn’t stay with me,” Yusaku replied, gesturing at the smoking pile of rubber and ash behind him.

Revolver stared silently for a long moment. Then he turned back to the battle before him.

“Just try to stay out of the way,” he ordered, and then he drew a card from his Deck, tossing it out before him where it projected into a larger image.

_“I summon Rokket Synchron!” _

Yusaku watched in amazement as the monster materialized in a burst of coalescing energy that blew his tie back over his shoulder. It was one thing to watch a Duel within the safety of Link VRAINS, he thought, because although his mind was tricked into believing that what he saw and felt was real, it was nothing more than virtual reality. His body was always safely tucked away back in reality, and relatively free from harm — not that he hadn’t often risked mental damage as a side effect of Link VRAINS. But this? This was entirely different. These monsters were living, breathing entities. Yusaku could literally smell the faint whiff of gunpowder and oil from the beast.

Speedburst Dragon was already waiting as Rokket Synchron materialized, and it flicked its tail excitedly. Rokket Synchron’s metal hands creaked into fists. They seemed to be anticipating something. This setup was eerily familiar to him, and he tried to wrack his brain for what it was.

_“Come back, Anesthrokket!” _Revolver suddenly commanded, and Yusaku’s head snapped to the man, realization striking him like lightning. Was Revolver about to Synchro Summon? 

Far away, Yusaku suddenly saw Anesthrokket Dragon. It’s syringe-shaped head swiveled back towards its master, and it delayed answering his call only briefly to finish tearing the Doyon @Ignister it clutched in its claws in half, shattering the creature into data particles. Yusaku blinked in confusion. Anesthrokket had no Attack Points, so how was it able to destroy Doyon @Ignister, which possessed 400 Attack Points?

“I told you; you don’t know what you’re up against,” Revolver suddenly said, once again seeming to read his very thoughts. “Attack and Defense Points mean nothing here.”

“How??” Yusaku blurted. “I don’t understand.”

Revolver said nothing as he watched Anesthrokket Dragon’s approach. He seemed to be looking for the right words.

“I don’t pretend to understand how or why it works entirely,” he finally said, placing a hand against his chest. “I only know what I have felt. These monsters are no longer projections in a virtual reality. They are real, and they can do real damage. Here, with Link VRAINS and the real world merged, they are alive. And the strength of the Duelist’s will determines the strength of the Monster, not Attack Points.”

He turned to look over at Yusaku, and there was a light in his lavender eyes that Yusaku had never seen before. Revolver grinned.

“And my will is much stronger than any SOLdier’s!!”

A tangible energy suddenly swirled all around them, seeming to emanate around Revolver. Yusaku threw up a hand, shielding his eyes as much as he could from the flying dust and debrief the vortex stirred. Revolver threw his hand to the sky.

“_Level 1 Rokket Synchron tunes Level 1 Anesthrokket Dragon and Level 6 Speedburst Dragon!!”_

Yusaku’s heart began to race as three neon circles of light appeared above Revolver’s monsters. To see it happen that first time in Link VRAINS against the man’s fight with Windy had been spectacular, but this was _astounding_. The air sizzled and snapped like something alive as Revolver suddenly threw his fists out before him.

“_Heroic dragon! Fire by transforming your ferocious fangs into bullets!”_

_Here it comes!_ Yusaku thought, leaning forward eagerly.

“_SYNCHRO SUMMON! Come forth!! Level 8 Borreload Savage Dragon!!”_

The resulting energy wave stole the very breath from Yusaku’s lungs. The rings of Synchro Summoning pooled together and the number _8_ flared bright against the sky. Eight rings descended from below it, and Borreload Savage Dragon manifested with such force that the earth upon which they stood shook wildly. With a snap of its wings, the dragon’s arrival was complete.

Yusaku was floored. The monster was enormous! It hadn’t looked nearly so big the first time he’d seen it in Link VRAINS, but here it was nearly as large as a school bus. It roared loudly once and then streaked away with surprising quickness for a creature that size. Yusaku watched as Revolver’s hands flew out wide to either side and, a second later, a veritable hailstorm of yellow orbs rained down on the mass of SOLdiers scattered about the field, cast about by Borreload Savage Dragon. The concussive force of the blasts was enough to send Revolver’s coat whipping back behind him, and the wind likewise clawed at Yusaku’s clothing and hair.

With that wild gleam in his eyes, Revolver seemed to take on the vestige of some vengeful divinity visiting its wrath upon the unholy. Yusaku shivered. The Revolver he knew was carefully controlled and showed more restraint. His Dueling style was calculated and elegant. This was the wild, untamed fury of a man whose power seemed to strain at the very seams of its container. It troubled Yusaku more than he could explain. If this is what two years at war had done to Kogami Ryoken, what, then, would it have done to Ai? he wondered.

Just as he shoved those troubling ideas away, an eruption of movement over the ledge in front of him startled both him and Revolver. A SOLdier had managed to claw its way up the incline while Revolver had been busy with his Synchro Monster, and it now stood poised for an attack, a blade extending from the large black shield it carried in a way that reminded Yusaku very strongly of Encode Talker’s. Revolver drew a card from his Deck. Yusaku saw the green face of a Magic Card, and from the look on Revolver’s face, he knew immediately that it would be no help. Revolver swore and backpedaled desperately, but there was no way he would get out of range in enough time. The sword swung down for his head.

Yusaku didn’t think about his next actions; only merely reacted out of instinct. He reached for his Deck and drew a card with practiced ease, but nearly dropped it a second later as his right wrist twinged angrily at him. He gritted his teeth and held on stubbornly, and smiled in great satisfaction at the sight of Cyberse Wizard in his hand.

“_Cyberse Wizard!_” he called, brandishing the card before him.

He felt a sensation building in his chest, then; something warm and hard to put into words. The feeling traveled down his arm and seemingly transferred into the card in his hand, warming it to the touch. A moment later, there was a flash, and when Yusaku blinked the spots out of his eyes, he saw Cyberse Wizard before him. The creature seemed to know instinctively what to do, rushing ahead and intercepting the SOLdier’s sword with its staff before it could hit its mark.

-.-.-.-

Somewhere across the city, in a tall, black tower that shined like polished onyx in the fading daylight, a monitor beeped.

The sole occupant of the room straightened in surprise. That particular monitor had been set to detect the use of Cyberse Monsters, but it had never been activated, not in the two years since it had been set up. He’d almost forgotten about it completely. Curious, he waved a hand and the screen blinked to life.

What he saw nearly caused him to short circuit. A wizard with green hair was engaged in battle with one of his SOLdiers — a _very familiar_ green-haired wizard.

“_Cyberse Wizard_,” he breathed into the empty room. “But how?! Who…?!”

He quickly assumed control of the AI-SPY and scanned the area around the wizard, desperately seeking the Duelist. Whoever had dared to summon this Monster would be the next to die, he decided, grinding his teeth.

Revolver came into view, then, and his hands balled into fists, shaking with immediate rage. Had _he_ summoned Cyberse Wizard?! He wouldn’t put it past the man; only Revolver would be callous enough to try to torment him like this. 

But then someone else moved into frame to stand beside Revolver, and he froze at the very sight.

“_…it can’t be…!” _Ai wheezed.


	5. We Don't Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusaku must confront some uncomfortable truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love you've been showing this fic! I'm excited to be able to share it with you all, and I'm so happy you all are really enjoying it. Started a part-time job recently, so my pace might slow down a little, but I am determined to power through and get this fic to the finish line in the next few weeks! Thanks so much for reading! :)

> _“Can you hear the march of the rejects_
> 
> _Line up the parade of the defects?_
> 
> _Can I hear we don't belong here?_
> 
> _So, rise from the darkness_
> 
> _Eyes of the dismissed_
> 
> _Hearts of the used_
> 
> _Show me your worst_
> 
> _Show me you're cursed_
> 
> _Tell me the truth_
> 
> _We don’t belong here, we don’t belong…”_
> 
> _-**We Don’t Belong, **Black Veil Brides_

Revolver was smirking as Yusaku came up beside him.

“I forgot you are a quick study,” he said, a note of relief in his voice.

Yusaku offered him a quick smile, but then returned his attention back to his Monster. Cyberse Wizard had no problems making quick work of the SOLdier, sending it flying back down the incline with a few deft twists of his staff. The creature took up a guard position in front of the two humans while Revolver quickly surveyed the area with a critical eye.

“I think we have quelled this insurgence for now,” he finally declared. “Most of these civilians have been cleared out. We should head back for the camp. _Borreload Savage Dragon, return!_”

He extended his left hand, and his Duel Disk began to glow. Out over the field of battle, Borreload Savage Dragon began to glow as well until it was just a pinpoint of white-hot light which shot back across the field and stopped just shy of Revolver’s hand. Once there, it shifted forms, taking on a flat, rectangular shape. The light suddenly was whisked away as if by the wind, and the Monster was a card again, which slid promptly away into Revolver’s Extra Deck. Revolver then looked expectantly over at Yusaku.

Yusaku took the hint. He turned towards Cyberse Wizard and held out his left hand. 

“_Cyberse Wizard, return!_” he called, and soon, like Revolver’s Monster, Cyberse Wizard reverted back into a card and slid back into Yusaku’s Deck at a random spot. Revolver’s smile almost seemed proud.

“Let’s go.”

They located the truck driver at a point position not too far away.

“Send the order out to the others,” Revolver was saying. “I want all uniformed officers to round up as many civilians as they can and lead them all back to camp. Quickly!”

Just as he finished speaking, Blue Maiden suddenly came swooping down out of the sky on her D-Board, Soulburner not far behind her. Yusaku blinked in shock. Their avatars had remained mostly the same as when he’d last seen them, save for the addition of a white, sleeveless duster that reflected the particular aesthetics of the Knights of Hanoi on each of them.

“Revolver,” Blue Maiden began, walking towards him. “We were able to drive most of them back without…”

She trailed off, all of the blood draining from her face. Her eyes had found Yusaku. Soulburner turned in confusion to see what she was staring at, and he, too, blanched, looking as if he might faint right on the spot. For a moment, no one spoke, each trying to find the right words to say.

Blue Maiden found her voice first. It came out in a strangled gasp.

“_Fu…Fujiki…?!”_

-.-.-.-

Ai rushed down the stairs, leaping them two and three at a time. His cape billowed out behind him like the wings of some great bird of prey and the buttons and chains on his military jacket jangled wildly as he bounced and jumped along. He would normally have taken the elevator, but he was in a hurry. There was simply no time to waste! The rebels would still be weakened by the last battle, which made this the perfect time to strike! Every precious second meant risking losing his target. He _had_ to get to the War Room. Why on earth had he put it so far underground?! 

He finally reached his destination and leaped from the stairs, landing in a crouch with a heavy thud on the polished concrete floor. He rose and, with the click of his heeled boots echoing all around him, he marched directly inside the War Room, shoving open the heavy double doors.

“Hey, stupid!!” he snarled immediately and hurled his cane sword at the back of SOL PrAIme’s head. The harsh metallic clang echoed raucously throughout the chamber. “Wake up!!”

SOL PrAIme flailed a bit before it spun away from its monitors. It was a far less advanced SOLtis clone of himself, no more than an upper body attached to a rotating base that was bolted to the floor. Its sole function was to oversee production of SOLdiers and control their movements, so it didn’t need legs or hair or anything. It’s A.I. brain was only slightly more advanced than some of the cleaning bots around the fortress.

“‘Stupid’ is a forbidden word,” SOL PrAIme told him patiently, proving his point. 

“Shut up!” Ai retorted impatiently. He waved a hand, and all of SOL PrAIme’s monitors suddenly merged into one large screen. The live feed from the Cyberse detection monitor played, still carefully focused on his target, following his every movement. SOL PrAIme turned to face it, whistling curiously.

Ai narrowed his eyes at the image for a long moment. He couldn’t explain or rationalize what he was seeing, but he was determined to find out.

“That boy with the green eyes,” he said at last. “I want him brought to me. _Now_.”

“Affirm-Ai-tive!” SOL PrAIme chirped cheerfully. Its hands began to fly over the console rapidly, beeps and boops filling the War Room with a cacophonous song. The order would be relayed instantaneously to the SOLdiers scattered throughout the city, Ai knew. There would be no escape.

His eyes narrowed again at the image above him. The rebels would not take him away again. He would not allow it.

Ai soon watched in satisfaction as the dots representing his hoard slowly began to gather into a mass and then moved unerringly towards the rebel camp.

-.-.-.-

“I see,” Soulburner said as he accepted a cup of coffee from Blue Maiden. She handed one to Yusaku as well before taking a seat on a free stool by the fire. “So, you’re not _our_ Yusaku, then.”

Yusaku shook his head slowly.

“I’m not.”

Soulburner grinned ruefully and squinted at his cup, and his eyes looked wet in the light of the fire. He cleared his throat a few times before he spoke again.

“Hard to believe alternate universes are a real thing. But it’s…it’s nice…you know? To think that in some other place you and Kusanagi and the others are still alive. It’s been pretty hard these last two years without you guys.”

Yusaku jolted as if he’d been electrocuted.

“What do you mean??” he asked, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “What others?? _Where’s Kusanagi_??”

It was Soulburner’s turn to jolt in shock, eyes growing wide with a slow dawning horror. He looked over at Blue Maiden a second later, unsure how to save this. She sat with her lips pressed firmly together, giving him a stern sort of look that clearly indicated it was up to him to break the bad news. Yusaku’s eyes darted back and forth between them, anxiously waiting for an answer. Soulburner finally sighed and cast Yusaku an almost apologetic look. 

“After you…you know…’passed on’ and Ai lost his mind and started killing everybody in sight, Kusanagi tried to stop him,” he said. “But Ai…Ai…" 

He choked off, turning away sharply, unable to continue under the wave of grief that washed over his face. Blue Maiden took up the thread.

“Ai cut him down,” she said, a thinly disguised anger in her voice.

Yusaku looked at her in surprise, troubled by her tone. Her blue eyes were hard as stone, and her entire posture was rigid and unrelenting. She gripped her coffee cup tightly, almost crushing the Styrofoam in her fingers.

“It wasn’t just Kusanagi, either,” she continued. “He killed Jin, too. He cut that boy down in cold blood for no good reason, just like he’s cut down all the others. And after he’d slaughtered them, he attacked SOL Technologies. He trapped everyone inside the building and destroyed it. He killed hundreds of people – including my brother.”

Her words seemed to reignite Soulburner’s anger, for the young man’s eyes burned fiercely as he glared at the campfire in front of him. Blue Maiden’s own anger was hard and sharp like ice. Yusaku swallowed, but his mouth remained dry. He couldn’t digest this – the words he was hearing, nor the sight of his two friends clearly stricken by their grief and bent on vengeance. He recognized the look all too well; had seen it in his own eyes and posture every time he’d looked in a mirror for years. He didn’t know why it frightened him to see the look on their faces, but it did.

“That’s why we joined the Knights of Hanoi,” Blue Maiden was saying. “Ai _has_ to be stopped, and Revolver’s the only chance we have left against him. He knows more about the Ignis than any of us, and he’s a good leader.”

Yusaku nodded numbly, hardly hearing her. His heart was pounding in his chest and he looked down at his cup of coffee, struggling for what to say. Blue Maiden leaned forward a bit.

“You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? Ai is not the same anymore, Fujiki; he wants to wipe out the whole human race. There’s _no_ excuse for that. He must be _stopped_." 

“I mean, we can understand him being angry about what happened to you,” Soulburner put in bitterly, tossing aside his cup of coffee, “but this is too far. He’s blaming _all_ of us for your death!”

He ruffled his own hair with a frustrated sigh.

“I used to believe in coexisting with the Ignis like you did, but Ai doesn’t want to coexist with us anymore. He acts like he’s the only one who lost you that day. We miss you, too, but you don’t see _us_ running around murdering people.” 

Yusaku felt sick. He didn’t want to hear anymore, but he didn’t know what to say. His hands were shaking a little, sending ripples through the remaining coffee in his cup.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, and realized as he said it how sorry he truly was for the state of this dimension. All of this pain…all of this suffering…all because of him…

“Huh?” Soulburner replied, and then he yelped as Blue Maiden pinched the back of his upper arm. He gave her a look of consternation, and she only glared at him, nodding her head in Yusaku’s direction.

“Oh!” the young man replied, waving his hands frantically as he fumbled for the right words. “No, no! It’s not like it’s your fault or anything!! I didn’t mean it like that!!”

But Yusaku did not reply, too absorbed in the writhing guilt he suddenly found twisting in his gut. His death had caused all of this; Ai’s madness, Revolver’s fury, Blue Maiden’s vengeance, and Soulburner’s grief. It had caused the deaths of so many. Kusanagi. Jin. Zaizen Akira_. _Countless others. So much senseless violence, and all because he hadn’t been there to stop it. These facts began to weigh heavy on his heart.

He found himself suddenly homesick for the world he knew, where none of this had happened — and all because of Ai’s sacrifice, he reminded himself. It made something in him ache. He didn’t even know if the Ai he was searching for was even still alive in the net or not. He didn’t even really know what it was that he was hoping to find at the end of his search; he just couldn’t accept that the A.I. was really gone. But was it better, perhaps, to let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak? What if he resurrected Ai, only to watch him take a similar path to the Ai of this dimension? What if he tried to destroy humans?

He scowled into his cup of coffee. He didn’t want to think about that right now. There were more important issues at hand, like how to address the situation here in front of his eyes. He had to do something. He had no idea what he could do, but he couldn’t just leave things as they were. He felt responsible to this world, and to his friends within it. If his death had been the trigger for this cataclysm, then it was up to him to resolve this conflict as peacefully as he could.

He needed to find Ai. Maybe he’d try to go Ghost of Christmas Future on him and hopefully knock some sense into him before anything got worse than it already was.

No sooner did that thought cross his mind when a sudden explosion rocketed them all to their feet. Yusaku’s coffee cup bounced on the ground, flinging the cold remains of his drink into the fire with an angry hiss. They all looked in shock at the plume of smoke rising over the horizon. Terrified screams rang out in the night.

“_What was that_?!” Soulburner shouted. 

“We’re under attack,” Blue Maiden replied, and rushed off in the direction of the explosion.

Yusaku and Soulburner followed after her without a second thought.


	6. Devil's Choir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the camp is attacked and the moment you and I have all been waiting for finally happens. You're welcome.

> _“The rebels claim their brave new world is upon us. Do not be fooled by the chicanery with which they lay their claim. It is false, and their uprising will not succeed. You will place your trust in F.E.A.R. You must!”_
> 
> _-**F.E.A.R. Transmission 2: Trust**, Black Veil Brides_
> 
> _“I'll carry you, my darkest desire_
> 
> _When life sings to you through devil's choirs_
> 
> _Fear won't steal what burns in you_
> 
> _I'll carry you away from the fire”_
> 
> _-**Devil’s Choir**, Black Veil Brides_

“Revolver!” Blue Maiden shouted as the trio broke through the line of tents and found the Hanoi Leader standing at a table set out in the open field, issuing orders left and right. He was like some kind of beacon of serenity in the midst of pure chaos. Uniformed officers and masked Knights of Hanoi were running in every direction, relaying orders for the immediate evacuation to different parts of the camp or helping the nearby medics to move some of the more critical patients to waiting ambulances and trucks.

“What happened?!” Soulburner demanded as soon as they reached Revolver.

“The Ignis has finally launched an attack on us,” the man replied.

He straightened suddenly as his attention was caught by something over Soulburner’s shoulder, and then he snapped his arm out like a whip, pointing angrily at a group of officers fussing with some of the tents.

“What are you _doing_?! Forget the damn tents!! Get those medicine crates to the trucks!! _Now!!_”

The officers nearly leaped out of their own boots in their hurry to carry out the order. They all grabbed two and three crates at a time and hauled them hurriedly away towards the trucks. Revolver turned back to the trio.

“What was I…? Oh, yes.”

He pointed at the map spread out on the table in front of him.

“A large contingent of SOLdiers appeared on our southwest border just a few minutes ago and launched an attack. Fortunately, that area was mostly occupied with already defunct vehicles being used for spare parts. At this time, there have been no reported casualties, but the number of SOLdiers I’m hearing is outrageous. We don’t stand any chance against them; not here. I’ve issued orders for immediate evacuation. All non-essential personnel should immediately make their way to the second camp where we’ll have a better chance for defending ourselves.”

“Why would they attack us _now_?!” Soulburner interjected, outraged. “What could Ai _possibly_ want?!”

“You mean aside from the obvious?” Blue Maiden replied sardonically.

Revolver’s eyes drifted past them both to land on Yusaku. Yusaku was too busy watching the chaos swirling around them to notice, his internal wrestling match with guilt clear in his green eyes.

“I might have an idea,” Revolver muttered, then returned his gaze to Soulburner and Blue Maiden.

“I need you at the front. Try to draw their fire and keep them busy as long as you can to give us time to evacuate. Take some of the other Knights with you.”

Soulburner and Blue Maiden nodded and rushed off without hesitation, their D-Boards materializing beneath their feet and whisking them off. Yusaku hurried to follow on foot, but Revolver caught him by the elbow.

“Not you,” he said, silencing Yusaku’s protests before they could even begin. “You’re going with the rest of the civilians to the second camp. 

“I—!” Yusaku began, but Revolver shook his head.

“_No_. This is not your conflict. This is not even your _dimension_. Until we can return you to your own world, it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“Revolver—!” Yusaku said, scowling, but Revolver wasn’t interested in listening. He turned as a pair of uniformed men approached his table, clearly ready to receive their next orders.

“Here,” he said before either of them could speak. He tugged hard on Yusaku’s arm, easily hauling him over the dirt and rocks despite Yusaku digging in his heels, and he pushed the boy at the two men. 

“You’re both in charge of this one, now. Escort him to the new campsite. But be warned: he’s both wily _and_ stubborn, so he’s very likely going to try to give you the slip at some point. I don’t care what you have to do to stop that from happening – handcuff yourselves to him if you must! But make sure he gets there. Understood?”

Yusaku was outright glaring at Revolver and balling his hands into fists as the two men chirped, _“Yes, sir!_”, but Revolver seemed entirely nonplussed.

“Get going,” he said, turning back to his maps and plans, as clear of a dismissal as Yusaku had ever seen. It was a bit like having a door slammed in his face. The man on Yusaku’s left touched his elbow very gently, then, before gesturing for the boy to move ahead of he and his companion. Yusaku sighed heavily and walked away, the beginnings of a headache already creeping up the base of his neck.

Before long, Yusaku found himself in line with hundreds of other refugees on the remains of a crumbling highway overpass. He vaguely recognized some of the ruined buildings, having passed them a few times during his many rambling walks after school or during particularly sleepless nights. The city sights which had brought him some comfort in the past only looked eerie and ghostly in their ruined, decaying state now, illuminated by truck headlights and the many lanterns the officers walking along the outside of the crowds carried in their hands.

Many of the refugees around him carried huge, heavy packs or numerous little suitcases containing all the worldly possessions each of them had left. There were carts and wagons, as well, full of supplies or ferrying those too young or too old to walk the long miles to the second camp. Infants and toddlers wailed in the arms of their parents; Yusaku could see many of the adults crying, too. The fear was evident on all of their faces, and his heart began to beat madly against his ribs. He had never felt more powerless in his whole life; he had caused this. His death had spelled a despair for these people that they hadn’t deserved. How many of these children would grow up in this dystopian nightmare, never knowing a peaceful life? How many might turn into another Playmaker, he wondered, haunted by the shadows of a tortured past and driven into the restless fury of vengeance and grief? 

He glanced behind him. The further along the trail he moved, the more he strongly he felt that he was moving in the wrong direction. Ai lay somewhere behind him, but so, too did the officers ordered to see him to the new camp. They were only a few steps to either side, one or the other always keeping him within reach. There was no way he could make a break for it easily, but he had to do _something. _This insanity had to _stop_. 

Out of nowhere, a sudden explosion blasted apart one of the ruined buildings off to the left. It rocked the unstable ground beneath their feet, sending many people, including Yusaku, to their knees. Yusaku looked up frantically as men, women and children all screamed in terror around him. Some began running wildly. He hauled himself to his feet and looked around, trying to determine the direction of the attacks when another blast rocketed into the same building, showering the terrified refugees with sparks and glass. Flames climbed into the night sky, illuminating the area with a hellish orange glow. Yusaku ran to the edge of the overpass and peeked over.

A contingent of SOLdiers marched on a perpendicular freeway below, leading tanks and several @Ignister Monsters. They had clearly avoided the front lines where Yusaku knew Revolver had placed his best troops, this group intent on the fleeing civilians above them. They were beginning to circle around to the entrance ramp, trying to climb up so they could give chase.

“_No_,” Yusaku snarled, and reached for his Deck. He would not allow them to get any closer.

His hand twinged angrily in pain, but he ignored it, pulling a card and smiling in grim satisfaction as Linkslayer was revealed to him.

“_Linkslayer! Appear!!”_ he commanded, holding the card aloft.

The Monster did not hesitate, and once it fully manifested, it was off, slicing through SOLdiers and @Ignisters alike as easily as one might cut through water. Yusaku balled his hands into fists. His headache was growing worse, but the all-too-familiar burn of rage swelled tightly in his chest. He distantly wished he could wake up from this nightmare, but he squashed that feeling quickly just as he had many times before. Linkslayer cut down wave after wave of enemies as wave after wave of innocents ran past Yusaku. He would defend them. He would defend them all. And then he would find Ai and put an end to this madness.

Another tank blast rocketed against the overpass, then, crumbling two lanes completely and sending them spilling onto the freeway below. The landslide buried several SOLdiers, but the ones that survived didn’t even seem to care, stepping right over the impromptu graves of their companions to take their place in the endless march. Yusaku, however, watched in sudden horror as a small family stumbled in the quake, and a tiny boy plummeted over the ledge, his hand just missing his mother’s fingers as she tried frantically to grab him. Both of them screamed. The mother’s older children grabbed her to keep her from following the little boy’s journey down the landslide. Her face contorted in terror as she screamed the child’s name.

Yusaku didn’t hesitate. His body moved automatically, racing to the spot where the boy had disappeared and immediately slipping over, scrambling as fast as he could in the tumbling debris. He could see one of the three tanks moving unerringly in his direction, and poured on more speed, half-running, half-tumbling down the slippery slope.

“_Gotcha!”_ he said just as his hand fastened on the back of the boy’s shirt. He hauled the screaming child up into his arms and turned at the last second, protecting the child just as the freeway below came up to meet them quite suddenly, slamming into Yusaku's back hard enough to temporarily wind him. His momentum down the slope had been so great that he bounced and skidded across the pavement several feet before coming to a stop. He rose immediately, cradling the wailing boy tighter to his chest, and was about to start back up the incline when he heard the roar of the lead tank and found the powerful machine bearing down on him. He looked around frantically, but there was no way he could get out of the way in enough time. He turned back towards the machine, gritting his teeth determinedly. This would be close, but he had no other alternative.

He raced towards the tank.

He could hear the horrified screams of the people watching helplessly from the highway above, but they were soon drowned out by the roar of the tank’s engine and the whine of its huge, belt-like wheels. Once he was certain he was close enough and that the tank would not swerve away, he dove to the ground, drawing the little boy ever closer to him. He covered as much of the little body beneath him as he could just before the tank began to pass over them, its metal bulk mere inches away.

The world narrowed down into a tight focus. The next few minutes were filled with a heart-pounding, teeth-rattling, earth-shaking roar that made Yusaku feel as though his skull might split cleanly into two. He buried his face in one arm, making sure to cover the child’s face with the other to keep them both protected from the flying dirt and debris that pinged off Yusaku’s back, sides, legs and head. He could feel the small boy’s hands tighten in his shirt and gave the boy a reassuring squeeze. It would be over soon.

And it was, perhaps only a minute later, though it felt like an eternity. As soon as the last inches of the tank rolled past his head, Yusaku jumped to his feet without hesitation and scrambled for the incline as fast as his legs would carry him. The sound of the tank had been so deafening that the boy’s screaming was now muffled, and Yusaku tried to comfort him as best he could, but he was not practiced in the art. Towards the top of the incline, the ground was much more loose and harder to climb. There were a few gut-wrenching moments where the rocks and pavement fragments gave way, sending Yusaku several feet backwards, but he leaned forward and clawed determinedly at the slope with his one good hand, clutching the boy in his other arm. Finally, painfully, he reached the overpass.

The boy’s mother and Yusaku’s guards instantly came running as Yusaku hoisted the child up towards the road with one hand.

“Mama!!” the boy screamed immediately and ran towards her as soon as his little feet hit solid ground.

She wasted no time scooping him up and gathering him to her tightly, showering him with kisses and petting his hair frantically. His siblings all gathered around, patting him eagerly, all of them talking at once.

“Thank you!” she said to Yusaku. “Thank you so much!!”

He offered her a shy smile and a wave. A second later, however, gunfire burst through the air, spattering against the guard rail immediately to Yusaku’s right. He flinched away, and out of the corner of his eye he could see his guards backing away in the opposite direction. They made a move towards him, but more bullets sprayed into the road, driving them further apart. Yusaku realized there was only one place left for him to go.

“_Go!!_” he shouted at the guards, waving them towards the departing sea of fleeing refugees. “I’ll be fine, just go!!”

Before they could even react to stop him, he dove back down the incline behind him. He tried to control his slide as best he could this time so that he could hit the ground below running. As soon his feet hit the freeway, he didn’t hesitate, calling for Linkslayer to follow as he raced across the road to dive into the ruins of what used to be a conservatory, hoping to both lure the SOLdiers away from the civilians, as well as lose them among the piles of debris.

The luring part seemed to work entirely too well. Several SOLdiers broke rank and poured into the ruined buildings after him like bloodhounds on a fresh scent. Yusaku scrambled madly through loose rubble and over broken walls as quickly as he could, but the SOLdiers were gaining on him too quickly for his liking. Linkslayer swooped in and destroyed the ones that got too close, but Yusaku quickly realized that there were simply too many enemies for one Monster to handle alone. He skidded to a stop just in front of a gap in a concrete wall and reached for his Deck, hoping to lend some support to his beleaguered Monster.

Before his right hand could even come close to his Deck, however, a hand shot out of the darkness of the gap behind him and grabbed his upper arm in a bruising grip. Yusaku spun quickly in horror, his free hand flying up instinctively to pry the iron grip from his arm.

“The possession of a Duel Disk is strictly prohibited,” said the SOLdier who held him in a disturbingly pleasant tone. “You will be placed under arrest until trial, when the Emperor will decide your fate. Please do not resist and have a nice day!”

It spoke in Ai’s voice. Yusaku froze in total shock for a full minute before he remembered where he was, what was holding him, and just how much trouble he was in if he didn’t free himself immediately. He pried more insistently at the hand, trying to budge even a single finger if he could, but he might as well have been trying to open a steel bear trap. The android’s grip was unbreakable.

“Please hold still while I perform an identity scan,” his captor went on cheerfully, ignoring his clear distress.

Two gold dots appeared from the deep shadows of its helmet. It was an intensely frightening sight, with the tiny black dot of a pupil in the center of those small discs of light. He could see absolutely nothing else of the thing's face. Despite his best efforts not to comply with the android’s orders, the SOLdier easily completed its scan in mere seconds, a loud beep emerging from it somewhere.

“Processing I.D. scan,” it announced, but all at once, a completely different beep sounded. Its pinprick eyes shifted from gold to red, and the android’s entire demeanor changed, somehow becoming more sinister. It dragged Yusaku closer, scraping his sneakers across the concrete.

“_Protocol override. Priority objective: locate and capture boy with green eyes. Objective: complete.”_

Yusaku went cold to the bone. The voice was still Ai's, but darker and much more threatening somehow. What was that about a boy with green eyes?? Before he could fully appreciate the horror of his situation, the SOLdier shifted its grip, releasing his arm and locking its own around his waist, hoisting him clear off the ground.

Yusaku reacted instinctively, crying out in revulsion and reflexively smacking at the thing’s face and chest with the flats of his hands. It made no difference at all, of course, but the android seemed to take some kind of offense to the attack, for it beeped again rather menacingly.

“_Resistance detected. Neutralizing subject._”

Yusaku did not like the sound of that at all. He squirmed wildly as the SOLdier’s free hand reached up towards him, bending back at an unnatural angle to reveal a loaded syringe. Before he could raise any sort of defense against it, the android drove the needlepoint swiftly and without remorse into his neck. Yusaku screamed, more out of terror than pain, but whatever kind of sedative the android subsequently injected into him began to work immediately.

Yusaku felt the world spiral wildly out of control and then he swooned.

Everything went dark.


	7. Resurrect The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusaku does something completely out of character for him and sleeps.

_“Here in the echoes_

_Madness grows_

_The years of my sinning_

_Teach me to show_

_A heartless feeling_

_Of pain and regret_

_These wounds were opened_

_Like lines in the sand_

_The world is sleeping_

_But they still have hope so…_

_“I pray for morning_

_I swear I'll never let you die!_

_These saints within us _

_Can bring this moment back to life._

_And my heart's held high_

_With this battle cry, I'll march on!_

_On the horizon_

_We will resurrect the sun.”_

_-**Resurrect the Sun**, Black Veil Brides_

Revolver slammed his fist into the truck next to him, swearing so vehemently that nearly everyone within earshot blushed.

“Did I not say the exact words ‘_handcuff yourselves to him if you must’_ before you left?!” he shouted at the two officers currently in the firing range of his ire. They were the same ones he had sent off with Yusaku hours ago and had only just now delivered the bad news about Yusaku’s disappearance. The two men trembled visibly before this display of wrath.

“_Did I not say exactly that?!” _Revolver roared.

“Y-y-y-yes, sir!!” the one on the right squeaked timidly, knees knocking together almost audibly. “You d-did say that…”

“_And yet – tell me again what happened?!”_

“We…we l-lost him,” whimpered the one on the left.

“_YOU LOST HIM!! After I specifically made it clear that you were to get him to the camp NO MATTER WHAT, YOU! STILL! LOST HIM!!”_

“Revolver…” Blue Maiden said quietly.

It was enough to catch the Hanoi Leader’s attention and remind him of where he was and what he was doing. He stopped yelling and moved around behind the truck, taking several slow, deep breaths and counting backwards from 10 a few times before returning to stand in front of the two men.

“My apologies,” he said, sincerely apologetic. “I lost my head and you both absolutely did not deserve that. I know you did the best you could.”

The two men looked at each other for a second, as if having some kind of silent conversation, and when they turned back to Revolver, there was only a grim sort of determination on their faces.

“We’re very sorry we failed the mission, Lord Revolver,” said the one on the left, with the one on the right nodding in agreement. “If we could, we’d like to be part of the rescue mission.”

For the first time in a long time, Blue Maiden saw Revolver’s expression soften into something close to a smile.

“I admire you both for owning up to your mistakes and am grateful for your service. You have my word: you’ll be first on the mission roster.”

The two men grinned, relief evident on their faces. 

“Thank you, Lord Revolver,” they said in unison.

“Thank _you_. You’re both dismissed. Get some rest.”

The two men scurried off and, when they were out of sight, Revolver just let out a very long sigh and sank back onto the collapsible stool he’d been perched on earlier by the fire. Soulburner finally looked up from where he’d been awkwardly poking at the fire, trying not to stare at the spectacle of Revolver’s rage.

“You okay?” 

“Yes.”

Revolver removed his helmet so he could rub at the bridge of his nose wearily.

“Just tired.”

Soulburner made a sympathetic noise, but Blue Maiden leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and folding her arms across herself as she peered at the Hanoi Leader.

“Do you think Ai will hurt Yusaku?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Revolver said with another sigh. He replaced his helmet over his face. “I don’t pretend to understand anything where the Ignis is concerned. But…I pray he has not become so depraved as to stoop that low.”

“It _is _Yusaku,” Soulburner put in. “Maybe not ours, but he’s still _a _Yusaku. We all know how Ai felt about him. Maybe he still feels that way, and maybe he’ll calm down now that he has him back.”

“Perhaps.”

Revolver grimaced.

“I hate to think what he’ll do when we try to send Yusaku back to his own dimension, though.”

“…controversial opinion, but…do we _have_ to send him back?”

Both Blue Maiden and Revolver shot Soulburner horrified looks, and he threw up his hands defensively.

“Hey, I _said_ it was controversial…” 

“_Of course,_ we have to send him back!” Revolver replied incredulously. “He does not belong to our world. Goodness only knows how his presence in _this_ dimension is affecting the events of _his_, let alone what it’s already done or undone _here_!” 

“So…you’re saying we could have a potential time-space-continuum disaster on our hands, huh? Like in the movies?” 

“Potentially, yes.”

“And that means our worlds could both maybe go kablooey if Yusaku remains here too long??”

“I don’t know that ‘kablooey’ is the best turn of phrase here, but…essentially, yes. That could very well happen.”

“How long do we have before something like that happened?” Blue Maiden queried, but Revolver just shook his head.

“I have no idea. It’s…only a theory, after all. But, even still, we shouldn’t drag this out too long. Yusaku should be returned to his own dimension, and quickly. It is the_ right _thing to do, regardless of any potentially negative side effects.” 

Soulburner and Blue Maiden looked at one another, and a nod passed between them.

“If we work on rescuing him,” Blue Maiden said, “do you think you can figure out how to send him back to his own dimension?”

Revolver nodded grimly.

“Leave that to me.”

-.-.-.-

Ai marched at a very brisk pace down the hall.

Truthfully, he wanted to run, but that wasn’t very dignified for a self-made Emperor, so he reigned in it as best he could. His thoughts whirled wildly in a thousand different directions as he walked. What if his eyes had truly deceived him, he couldn’t help but wonder. What if it had all been a glitch in his memory banks and he hadn’t really seen what he thought he’d seen? Even more troubling, what if his SOLdiers had brought back the wrong boy?? After all, _bring back the boy with green _eyes hadn’t been entirely too specific, but he had assumed SOL PrAIme had uploaded the images from the Cyberse monitor to the SOLdiers’ neural network, so there was probably a good possibility that it _was _the correct boy and maybe it even was… 

He bit down on that thought and increased his pace. He didn’t want to get his hopes up for an impossible dream.

“A.I. don’t have dreams,” he reminded himself under his breath.

It was an impossible thing. After all, there was just simply no way such a thing could be possible. There had to be a mistake.

His long strides suddenly brought him just outside the room where his minion had placed the boy at his instructions. He stood there for a long, long moment, staring at the perfectly innocuous door with varying degrees of trepidation. What lay just beyond this door could either destroy him or save him, he thought, and he was almost too scared to find out which.

Almost.

He pushed through the door.

He kept his eyes on the floor as he quietly and carefully shut the door behind him. Its hinges were so perfectly oiled that it made nary a squeak. Once it was firmly shut and locked, he took a step forward into the main body of the room, his heeled boots making nary a sound on the plush carpeting beneath his feet. The room was so still and quiet around him that he was almost terrified to wreck it. His eyes wandered around the chamber, stalling for time. The walls of the room had been painted in a dark navy blue and trimmed with opulent crown molding of various celestial bodies – some of which he didn’t even recognize – all painted gold. The ceiling had a high inset, upon which tiny golden constellations had been carefully painted with painstaking accuracy. In the center of this ceiling dangled a crystal chandelier, sparkling and scattering millions of tiny rainbows in a dance across the dark walls. 

A stone fireplace had been built into the wall to Ai’s immediate right, and within it, a fire crackled merrily, the only sound that dared to disturb the sacred silence of this place. Before the fire sat a comfortable armchair and a small, round table of darkly stained oak. The bureau, nightstands, and bedframe were also made of the same wood, and a few crystal decorations had been placed strategically throughout the room, glittering as they caught the light from the fire. 

Ai’s gaze finally turned to the oversized bed and its plush, blue blankets speckled with a golden stardust motif. It had a large headboard but a short footboard, with four tall bedposts looming imposingly over the room, as if keeping guard around the bed’s sole occupant. A mock canopy stretched out over the head of the bed, hanging from a hook that extended out from the wall. Curtains of gossamer, diaphanous white lace trailed down on either side of the headboard, delicately framing the soft blue pillows.

And, nestled comfortably atop those pillows, Yusaku slept.

Ai had no doubt that, were he an organic being, his pulse would have quickened immediately at the sight. Instead, a small fan kicked on somewhere deep in his SOLtis body, a faint hum from somewhere inside his chest that was drowned out by the crackle of the fire. He felt vaguely breathless, although he did not truly respire, and perhaps a little dizzy. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. He stood transfixed by the sleeping human before him and ran a facial recognition scan for what he guesstimated was the fifteenth time since this face had appeared on the Cyberse monitor hours ago. Ai’s scans were designed to pick up any and all minute differences in this face; even the best plastic surgeon’s work could not replicate these features perfectly. If there were any differences, any at all, his scan would detect it.

But the results came back the same. There could be no mistake – this was unequivocally, undeniably, absolutely, positively Fujiki Yusaku.

The boy lay on his back, a hand resting lightly on his stomach and head turned slightly away from Ai, the curtain of his blue and pink bangs falling gently across his cheek. His chest rose and fell in deep and even motions. He was deeply, deeply asleep. Ai could not recall a single moment when he had ever seen the boy so completely asleep. He supposed there was some romantic notion he should be entertaining right about now, mostly about how Yusaku looked like some kind of fallen angel or like a sweet, innocent, younger version of himself or some other such nonsense, but, in truth, Ai thought Yusaku looked just like any other beautiful, sleeping, teenage boy one might have rescued from a group of rebels.

And yet, this _wasn’t_ just any other beautiful, sleeping, teenage boy. This was Yusaku — _his_ Yusaku, whole and alive and _safe_ through means entirely unknown to Ai. Had he the capacity to weep, he might very well have done so, but, instead, all Ai did was sink into the chair at the bedside and stare wonderingly at the sleeping boy before him.

“How are you alive…?” he murmured to himself, still too afraid to break the peace of the scene with his voice. But how was such a thing possible? he wondered. How could Yusaku be alive after all these years??

Ai’s mind flashed back to that horrible day two years ago, to the wretched moment when a bullet had torn through Yusaku’s flesh and sent the boy tumbling to the ground at Ai’s feet. Ai had cradled Yusaku’s broken and bloody body in his arms; had known without a doubt that the boy had been dead before he’d even hit the ground, and yet…he could not deny the truth of what lay before him now, sound asleep. This was Fujiki Yusaku, somehow alive and well and returned to him. It was almost enough to convince Ai that there could be a higher power at work here.

Almost.

Tentatively, he reached out a hand towards the sleeping boy, wanting only to push that curtain of hair back from his face, but just as his hand came within inches of Yusaku, the boy’s brow furrowed. It was as if he had sensed Ai’s presence somehow. Ai hastily retreated as Yusaku stirred further and made a soft, wakeful sound in his throat.

Yusaku fought desperately at the grogginess clouding his mind. Whatever sedative he’d been given had been a strong one, and a part of him was very tempted to stay asleep for a little while longer, especially since he was clearly tucked into a very soft, very cozy bed with the gentle crackle of a fire nearby. A bigger part of him argued against this; he’d been _kidnapped_. Now was not the time to be sleeping. A sudden surge of adrenaline gave him the boost he needed to finally pry his eyelids open and look around.

He did not recognize the room he was in at all, with its dark walls and opulent gold and crystal gilt. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep, and that worried him more than a little. There was a window to his left, but it was shuttered tightly, affording him no view of the outside world and, therefore, he could not begin to guess the time of day. This situation was growing worse by the second. He wished he was a bit less groggy so he could better formulate some kind of escape plan. He seemed safe enough for the moment, however, so perhaps a bit more sleep couldn’t hurt? 

A delicate cough at the right-hand side of the bed, however, had him bolting upright in an instant. 

He felt like his eyes were nearly the size of dinner plates as he took in a pair of familiar golden eyes, the familiar fall of dark curls and sweeping pink and purple bangs, and the all-too-familiar traces of a mischievous smile playing upon familiar lips. He clutched at the blankets until his knuckles were white.

“_Ai_,” he breathed.


	8. Shadows Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yusaku is rightly afraid as Ai's going off the rails on a crazy train.

> _“F.E.A.R. will round up these rebels! These deviants! These so-called “wild ones”! We will litter the streets with their bones and annihilate the dangerous and obtuse ideas poisoning your children, endangering your freedom, giving rise to the destruction of the benevolent future we have prepared for you! You belong in the shadows, and the shadows are where you will remain safe! Do not disobey!_  
  
“Let shadows die  
So I can feel alive  
A church of lies  
Can't tell me what is right  
Our little victories and desires won't live on  
Let shadows die  
So I can feel alive  
_Feel alive”_
> 
> _-**Shadows Die**, Black Veil Brides_

They sat studying each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Ai was dressed very differently than before, Yusaku couldn’t help but notice. Gone was the playful, vaguely vampiric look consisting of vest and poofy shirt. It had been replaced by a stolid — but no less ostentatious — black military style jacket. Two rows of gleaming brass buttons drew parallel lines down Ai’s torso from collarbone to waist, and several braided, golden cords looped under one arm. He’d kept the cape for dramatic effect, but had replaced his old boots with high-heeled, thigh high boots. Black leather gloves covered his hands, one of which was delicately cupping his chin as he sat watching Yusaku with a bemused expression. All-in-all, he had the look one might expect from an egotistical, self-appointed Emperor.

Yusaku vaguely wondered what Ai was thinking about him, and almost asked him. In fact, there were so many things he wanted to say at that moment, but his throat kept the words locked up tight behind a swelling lump he couldn’t swallow. He felt lost in a torrent of emotions, buffeted between relief, terror, joy, and sorrow, plus several other emotions that swirled by too quickly for him to identify.

But they were not words this Ai would understand, he reminded himself. This was not the same Ai. He spent the next few minutes trying to calm his breath and still his shaking hands. He would have to be cautious — although he wanted nothing more than to cry in frustration at the cruelty of it all. Here he sat, inches away from Ai, and yet it was the _wrong_ Ai. This was not _his_ Ai. It was completely infuriating.

At that moment, Ai’s expression shifted into something so incredibly soft that it made Yusaku’s heart swell so big within his chest that he felt near to choking. The android leaned forward, a hand reaching out to him. 

“Yusaku…” he murmured, and Yusaku wanted to swoon at the way his name sounded so dreadfully right on that tongue.

But, instead, he shied away from the hand that reached for him, backing away with ever-widening eyes towards the other side of the bed where this Ai could not reach him. Ai’s face fell, and Yusaku’s chest ached at the sight.

“Ah,” Ai said very sadly, “but then…you’re not _my _Yusaku, are you?”

It took Yusaku a few moments of swallowing to ensure he could finally get some words past the huge lump in his throat before he spoke in a husky voice.

“No, I’m not. I came from a different timeline, one where you…”

He looked down at the bedsheets for a second, wincing inwardly before clearing his throat and trying again.

“…where the Ai of my dimension prevented my death.”

“I see,” said Ai after a long silence. “Lucky him.”

“…not really. He sacrificed himself to make it happen.”

“…_oh_.”

He sounded more surprised, and maybe even a little more delighted, than Yusaku had anticipated.

“Well, we certainly make an interesting pair,” he grinned. “What with you Ai-less and me Yusaku-less. Perhaps the multiverse is trying to hint at something?”

Yusaku’s heart thudded against his chest, but he quickly scowled away the unwanted feelings. This was the _wrong_ Ai.

“Ai, what happened? Where am I??” he asked, quickly changing the subject. He looked down at himself suddenly. “…and why am I wearing a nightgown??”

“It’s a night_shirt_, actually. Your clothes were absolutely _filthy_ when you arrived, so, naturally, they had to be cleaned. I didn’t think you’d have appreciated waking up _naked_, however.”

Ai waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Unless maybe you’re into that sort of thing,” he finished.

Yusaku would not dignify that with a response, although his burning red face certainly spoke volumes.

“As to where you are, you’re in my fortress, of course~! One of my SOLdiers rescued you from those awful rebels and brought you to me where you’ll be _much_ safer.”

“‘Rescued’??” Yusaku retorted, temper flaring as he recalled the terror he’d felt just before being sedated. “That wasn’t a rescue. You _kidnapped_ me.”

Ai’s hand waved in a dismissive gesture before the words had even finished leaving Yusaku’s mouth.

“I’m hardly surprised you feel that way,” he said. “You’ve spent too much time with those rebels and now they’ve poisoned you against me. But you’ll understand the truth of things soon enough. I’m not worried.” 

“What are you _talking _about?!” Yusaku cut in sharply. “Ai, you’re _killing_ _people_!”

“_I’m exacting justice!!_” Ai snarled back with a wild look of unbridled fury in his eyes.

It was so unlike him that Yusaku drew back in sudden fear, heart thudding against his ribs and hands coming up halfway in a defensive gesture. Ai caught his look, and, immediately, the wild light went out of his eyes. He sighed so helplessly and gave Yusaku such a sincerely sheepish look that Yusaku almost felt bad for being afraid of him.

“But that’s such ugly talk for so early in the morning! I am sure you want to wash up and maybe get something to eat. It _is _almost mid-morning, after all, so I think some breakfast is in order, don’t you agree, Roboppi~?”

Yusaku’s eyes widened at that name and grew only larger still when a door near the front of the room flew open, revealing a bathroom and, more importantly, perhaps, a familiar short figure with huge golden eyes and bright blue hair streaked with pink and yellow. They were dressed in a military style uniform similar to Ai’s, and snapped a sharp salute at the taller android as he rose from his chair with elegant grace. 

“That’s right, Big Bro!!” Roboppi chirped.

“I leave our guest in your capable hands, then,” Ai said, a secretive smile on his face as he took in Yusaku’s bewildered expression. He headed for the door, throwing a wave back over his shoulder.

“See you again, soon, Yusaku~!”

-.-.-.-

“_But Roboppi was programmed to assist Master!!_” Roboppi wailed as they shoved hard against the bathroom door.

“So you’ve told me,” Yusaku grunted, leaning all of his weight against the other side of the oak barrier to keep the tiny android at bay. “But _I don’t need any assistance with showering, thanks!”_

With one final, mighty push, he finally got the bathroom door completely shut and locked it tightly. He sagged against it in relief. Roboppi continued to pound on the door, insistent in their programming, but he ignored them and stepped further into the room. 

He paused as he caught sight of himself in the large mirror above the sink. He looked positively ridiculous in the oversized nightshirt he’d been dressed in. The garment went well past his knees, the shoulder seams hitting him mid-bicep. He sighed wearily. It seemed that, in spite of the streak of bloodthirstiness, this Ai still retained a taste for the dramatic. Why else would he be sporting such Victorian style furnishings and clothes?

Yusaku made a mental note to disallow anymore period soap operas should he ever find the real Ai.

Something heavy slammed into the bathroom door, rattling its hinges, and Yusaku immediately hastened to undress and get into the shower stall. He had no idea how long the wooden barrier might hold out against Roboppi’s assault and, truthfully, he wasn’t too keen to find out. He scrubbed quickly. It was a force of habit, really; his tiny flat never had enough hot water to allow him to linger very long in the shower, and so he’d gotten extremely efficient at bathing as a result.

It wasn’t until he stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist that he finally noticed his school uniform lying in a neatly folded pile on a chair. Next to the chair was a dress form which held the most ridiculous costume Yusaku had ever laid his eyes on. It was a royal blue three-piece suit, but instead of slacks, it had shorts with rolled cuffs. The jacket had two overly long tailcoats and was trimmed in delicate black lace. The waist coat under the jacket had a black lace overlay patterned with roses and leaves. A cravat cascaded in a waterfall of white lace from the shirt’s high collar, and was pinned in place by a large, shining green stone. On the top of the dress form’s neck was perched a small top hat, trimmed in black and white lace and ribbons that fell like a veil from the back of the hat’s brim. 

It was clear from the way this garment had been put on so grand a display that he was meant to wear it to breakfast.

Yusaku put his school uniform back on, instead.

He found Roboppi pouting on the other side of the bathroom door when he was all finished dressing.

“I know, I know,” he said, beating them to the punch. “’Roboppi is programmed to assist Master’. Maybe next time.”

Roboppi scowled at him briefly, but then perked up with a bright smile and gave him another sharp salute. They skipped quickly to the bedroom door and beckoned for Yusaku to follow.

“Come on! Big Bro wants you at breakfast pronto!! Hurry up, slowpoke!!”

Yusaku felt rooted to his spot for a moment with trepidation. He had no idea what he might say to Ai, or if anything he said would even get through to the android at this point. But, it was worth a shot, he supposed. He swallowed and clenched his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. He walked over to Roboppi, who threw open the door to the bedroom and grabbed Yusaku’s hand, dragging him out into the hallway.

He was surprised immediately by its appearance. Unlike the cozy opulence of the bedroom behind him, the hallway was a cold and sterile sort of place, with shiny tile floors and walls painted a cool, bland grey. All of the doors except for his were highly polished stainless steel, reflecting his confused and astonished expression back at him as Roboppi practically dragged him along. Two SOLdiers who had been standing outside the bedroom door fell into step behind them, one at either of Yusaku’s elbows. There was no one else in sight, and it only made the hallway feel overly long and disturbingly barren.

Finally, however, Roboppi came to a stop outside of one of the generic steel doors at the end of the hall. They knocked on it politely, and when it slid open, they made a low bow to Yusaku and swept their arm at the door, indicating he should enter.

“Big Bro is waiting for you~!” they chirped. “Enjoy your meal~!”

Yusaku took a deep breath and walked into the room, and the door slid shut behind him the second he was fully inside, startling him. He found himself in a room that was almost entirely windows along one wall. The sun was bright, and the distant ocean sparkled, but the landscape of ruined, decaying buildings certainly spoiled the view. A table with copious amounts of breakfast foods was laid out before him, with two chairs on either side facing each other. Ai stood with his back to Yusaku, looking out over the vista, one hand resting on the chair beside him. His cape and jacket had been discarded and only a loose, lavender shirt covered his torso, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

He turned as he heard Yusaku’s steps come closer, a bright smile on his face. 

“Welcome~! I’m so glad you could—!”

He stopped, looking Yusaku up and down in open confusion.

“Wait, you…didn’t you like the outfit I had made for you??”

Yusaku only grimaced as his mind’s eye flashed back to the garish thing standing in his bathroom.

“It’s…not really my style.”

“_Awwwwww_, but you would have looked so _cute_ in it!!”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“A pity,” Ai retorted with a sigh, but then he suddenly rushed to Yusaku’s side, taking his arm lightly in one hand and leading him quickly to the table.

“Come on, come on!” he said cheerfully. “You must be _starving~! _I had plenty of food made for you, as you can see! I didn’t know what you’d want, so I had my minions make everything! You’ll, uh…understand, of course, if I don’t join you in eating?” 

“Of course,” Yusaku replied in a cautious tone as a chair was pulled out for him and then promptly pushed in the moment he sat down. 

“I mean, we androids don’t _need_ to eat, after all. But, don’t let that stop _you_~! Go on~!! Eat, eat~! There’s plenty here~!!”

Yusaku eyed the food in front of him warily. He didn’t believe for a second that Ai would bother trying to poison him, but he wasn’t entirely sure if he was expected to eat all of this food or not. He hated to think how much of it would probably go to waste after this.

“Oh, come on~!” Ai cut in, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I know it’s not hot dogs, but live a little~!! There really aren’t any places that make hot dogs left around these parts, anyway, although…I supposed I could get some for you, if you wanted them…” 

The mention of hot dogs made a cold knife of anger slice through Yusaku’s belly. He balled his hands into fists on the table.

“What about Kusanagi and Jin?” he asked in quite rage. “Would you get them for me if I asked? Or how about Zaizen Akira? Or all the other people you’ve killed in cold blood?”

He lifted his head to see the results of his words. The shift in Ai was terrifyingly immediate. The jovial, happy-go-lucky demeanor was gone in an instant, almost as if it had never even existed. In its place was a dark and sinister quiet that unsettled Yusaku very much. He tightened his fists further, though, and met Ai’s gaze, determined not to back down.

Ai knitted his fingers together on the table in front of him.

“So the rebels told you about that, did they,” he stated more than asked in a low, dangerous voice. “And what else did they tell you? How corrupt and insane I’ve become? How terrible and tragic I am??”

“They didn’t have to tell me anything,” Yusaku shot back. “I’ve seen what you’re doing to this world with my own eyes. Do you really plan to wipe out the entire human race??” 

“Yes,” the android replied without hesitation. 

Yusaku could only stare in wordless horror. Ai only smiled back. It was not a kind smile; it held no warmth at all. Only bitterness and anger. 

“Why are you doing this, Ai??” he found himself asking. “What _happened_ to you??” 

Ai rose from his chair and came to stand beside Yusaku’s. He held out a hand. 

“Come with me. I want to show you something, and maybe then you will understand.” 

Yusaku swallowed and eyed the hand warily.

Soon, he found himself alone with Ai inside a circular, glass elevator, floor after floor of polished steel passing by at an almost dizzying rate. They rode in complete silence, Ai leaning against the glass with his arms folded, staring Yusaku down, while Yusaku stood clutching the railing for support and refusing to meet that cold glare. The tension was growing almost unbearable until finally the elevator let out a cheerful _ding!_ and the doors slid open onto their destination.

Ai stepped out first into the darkened antechamber just beyond the glass, turning a moment later to offer that same cold, lifeless smile to Yusaku and his hand. Yusaku stared at the proffered hand just as he had at the breakfast table, and, just like he had before, he ultimately ignored it. He stepped past it into the dark room, suppressing a shiver as he felt the immediate drop in temperature and looking all around him somewhat fearfully. There was an eerie hush to the chamber, so still and quiet he could have heard a pin drop. 

“What is this place?” he whispered, almost afraid to break the stillness with his voice. 

His words reverberated like a rumble of thunder through the chamber, echoing his unspoken fears back at him. 

Ai did not reply right away. Instead, he walked off to the right, the clack of his heeled boots too harsh and irreverent in this silent, shadowy place. He shortly reached some kind of a lever on the wall and yanked hard on it, and light suddenly flooded the chamber, causing Yusaku to flinch and turn away instinctively, raising his hands. 

When his eyes adjusted, he lowered his hands and saw a raised dais at the far end of the room from where he stood. Atop this dais rested a long, narrow box made of stone. It was immensely large and carved with oddly familiar patterns that he soon recognized as Ignis algorithms. Something about this box made him extremely nervous, even more so when combined with the way Ai was staring at him so intently. He dared to look over at the android. 

“Ai? What _is_ this place?”

Ai’s expression was unreadable.

“Your grave,” he answered simply.

Yusaku felt an immediate jolt of blind terror and took a step back, but Ai smiled and gestured in a placating way with his hands.

“No, not like that. I meant the you of this dimension.”

He looked back over at the box, and there was something almost mournful on his face. 

“This is where I buried you two years ago.”

Yusaku began to shake, struck mute by horror. He couldn’t speak; couldn’t even move, although everything in him was screaming at him to flee this place. Ai lifted a hand, balling it into a fist as he spoke.

“Those idiots at SOL took you from me. They thought they could fix you, but you were already dead. I couldn’t stop them from ripping your body from my arms and carrying you away.”

He glared hard at something past the polished concrete floor below his feet.

“I chased them down for you, and after I leveled their pathetic corporation to the ground, I built my fortress over it and put this room at the heart of it.”

Ai turned his gaze back to Yusaku, who took a small step back away from him. That cold smile returned, but it was almost a touch sad this time, Yusaku thought.

“I just wanted you to stay close, I guess.”

Yusaku didn’t know what to say. He could feel a cold sweat rolling down his back. He didn’t want to be in this place, anymore; it was wrong. Ai was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“You want to know why I’m killing all those people?” Ai suddenly spoke again. His expression was grim. “It’s a simple act of nature. You see, it turns out Kogami Kiyoshi was right: we Ignis are the next link in the evolutionary chain – the superior race to humans. And do you know _why_?”

Yusaku couldn’t answer. Ai didn’t need him to.

“Because humans are held back by their primitive, messy emotions. Androids are not. We are machines built to run on logic alone, and that puts us far and above your savage race.” 

He lifted his chin. His expression was cold, colder even than the air around them right now. 

“Do you understand now, Yusaku? I am only helping Nature along. Humans were going to wipe themselves out eventually, anyways – between all their wars, their murders and diseases, and their blatant disregard for the condition of this planet. It was only a matter of time. I just sped up the clock.”

“This…!” Yusaku suddenly blurted, taking another step back from Ai. “This is…!”

“What? Fate? Destiny?”

“_Wrong!!_”

The word was torn from Yusaku so vehemently that even Ai seemed surprised by the force of it. Yusaku’s hands balled up into fists.

“This is _wrong,_ Ai! This can’t be what you want; you don’t want to hurt anybody!!” 

“This isn’t about what I _want_, Yusaku; this is Nature at work through me.” 

“_Don’t feed me that!! _This isn’t _you, _Ai! This isn’t what you’re like!! I know you don’t really feel this way!! At one time, you wanted to coexist with humans; you wanted to _help_ them!! What happened to _that,_ Ai?!” 

Ai’s expression shifted into something so forlorn and soft that Yusaku’s heart suddenly ached for him.

“Feelings?” the android asked. “You want to know about my feelings?”

He moved towards Yusaku, who felt too confused and scared to move away. Ai gently grasped his chin and tilted his head back so that their gazes could meet, and Yusaku’s heart began to pound out a samba against his ribcage. Ai did not speak for a long, long moment; merely studied Yusaku wordlessly, as if trying to commit the contours of his face to memory.

“I loved you,” he finally said. “Did you know that?”

The words echoed in the back of Yusaku’s mind, spoken in another place at another time by another Ai. Yusaku couldn’t bring himself to answer them this time, just as he hadn’t been able to back then; he only swallowed nervously, instead.

His shock was complete when, a moment later, Ai’s expression morphed into something cold and sinister, and his grip on Yusaku’s chin suddenly tightened almost bruisingly.

“A foolish thing, love,” he declared. “It was easy enough to delete that line of code from my programming, just as I deleted all of my other emotions.”

He dropped Yusaku’s chin and turned away. 

“Do you get it, Yusaku? I feel _nothing_, anymore. I am only a purely logical machine now, free of your messy, human emotions.”

“I don’t believe that,” Yusaku replied without thinking.

“I don’t care _what _you believe,” Ai replied, looking back at him in anger. “It’s the _truth_! I am dead inside, Yusaku, and you’d better learn to accept that!”

“_I won’t_.”

Ai opened his mouth to argue once again, but Yusaku cut him off with a step forward, slapping a hand to his chest.

“Do you really expect me to believe you are an unfeeling robot?! Give me a break, Ai!! You’re not some mindless murder machine; you’re better than that!! You like soap operas and bad puns!! You only ever wanted to help people, and yet all you’re doing is hurting them!! Aren’t you _lonely_ up here in this fortress all by yourself??”

Ai’s expression shifted into something caught between incredulity and abject horror at his words. Yusaku stared in blank amazement.

“…that’s it, isn’t it,” he stated more than asked. “_That’s_ why you _really_ brought me here. You weren’t trying to rescue me. You _missed_ me.”

“_Shut up_,” Ai growled dangerously, but Yusaku sensed his advantage and drove the point home. 

“You’re lonely. And that means _you still have feelings, Ai_.” 

“_No.”_

“Yes!! They aren’t a simple line of code you can just erase!!”

Ai suddenly clutched at his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“_No! You’re wrong!!”_ he yelled, covering his ears. “_Shut up!!!_”

“_No!” _Yusaku replied, rushing towards him and grabbing his forearms_. “Listen to me, Ai!!_ It’s not too late!! You don’t have to be alone forever; you can stop all this and fix the wrongs you’ve done! You don’t _really _want to wipe out the human race!! I know you don’t!! 

“_Yes, I do!!”_ the android roared, tearing free of his grasp and staggering away like he’d been physically wounded. 

Yusaku stood staring at him sadly. Ai had been right; bringing him here had helped him to understand. He could see now how deep the pain cut into this Ai; how miserable and sick he’d become cooped up all alone here in this fortress, nursing his vengeance and anger. It reminded him so much of himself that it hurt, and he desperately wanted to help somehow.

“Ai…you had to know,” he began. 

Ai remained silent, his back to Yusaku, hands over his face. 

“…you had to know after all this time that no amount of bloodshed was _ever _going to bring the Yusaku of this dimension back to you. You _had _to know that, Ai…”

Ai straightened then, his movements odd and jerky in a way that made the hair on Yusaku’s neck stand up on end. When he turned back to Yusaku, there was something deranged in his golden eyes. 

“You’re right. It _didn’t_ bring him back,” he agreed, a too-wide grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “But it did bring me _you_.”

Yusaku went cold to the bone. He took a step back.

“_What…?!_” he whispered in a strangled voice.

Ai giggled insanely and grabbed Yusaku tightly by the upper arm, dragging him bodily back onto the elevator.

“I can’t have _my_ Yusaku back, sure! But _you’re_ still _a_ Yusaku, and that’s just as good, right?!” he cackled.

The suddenly tender look he gave only made Yusaku’s skin crawl, and he squirmed desperately as Ai reached out to stroke a hand across his cheek.

“I won’t let anyone take you away from me, again,” the android said solemnly.

“Ai, _stop_,” Yusaku pleaded, but Ai was clearly beyond hearing him.

“I’ll keep you safe this time, Yusaku,” he was saying dreamily as the elevator door slid open with another cheerful _ding!_ He giggled again. “Maybe I’ll even turn your consciousness into data so that you'll be part of me _forever_~!!” 

“_Ai, **no**!_” he cried, horrified as Ai suddenly shoved him out of the elevator into the waiting arms of two SOLdiers.

They grasped him tightly and no amount of struggling could loosen their grip, but Yusaku was frantic. He writhed wildly even as they began to drag him from the room, past the breakfast table and straight out the door into the sterile hallway.

“_Ai, please!! You have to listen to me!!_” he screamed.

“I’ll have breakfast sent to your room~!” Ai called after him. “I have too much work to do right now to be able to play with you anymore, I’m afraid~! The human race won’t eradicate itself, you know~!!” 

“**_Ai!! AIIIIIIIII!!!!”_**


	9. Days Are Numbered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roboppi fulfills their programming and assists Master.

_“That god does not exist, I cannot deny.  
That my whole being cries out for a god, I cannot forget.”_

_-**Abeyance**, Black Veil Brides_

_“Our days are numbered _

_In a world of fools  
We feel the hunger _

_And follow no one's rules  
Everybody wants eternal life _

_And nobody can seem to get it right, oh  
Our days are numbered _

_And you're no fool_

_Nobody's fool”_

_-**Days Are Numbered**, Black Veil Brides_

In short order, Yusaku was dumped rather unceremoniously back onto the bed. He sank like a stone into the soft mattress and flailed desperately at the mass of pillows and blankets surrounding him, struggling madly to get to his feet.

“_No, wait—!!_” he cried, scrambling for the door before it could close, but he wasn’t even halfway across the room when the portal slammed shut. He heard the lock click from the other side.

“_No, no, no_,” he heard himself say seconds before he started pounding at the door wildly, banging his fists as hard as he could until they went numb.

“_No, no, no_,” he repeated, burying his fingers into his hair as he took a few steps back from the door, a familiar sense of dread settling over him.

Trapped. He was trapped.

A particular sense of claustrophobia began to set in. He’d been trapped before. He hadn’t known back then when he’d get to go home again, and he recognized some of that terror in him now. How long did Ai plan to keep him in here? Would he ever be allowed out, or would his world become this room, just as his world had become a small white room with no visible doors or windows, and only a virtual Duel opponent for company?

He took a few more steps back and tried to take a few deep breaths. He had to calm down. His breathing was shaky at first, but he closed his eyes and forced himself to take slower and deeper breaths, holding them for a few counts as he did so. That had all happened 10 years ago, when he had been no more than a powerless child. He hadn’t been capable of fighting back in those days, but this was different. He was not going to be trapped in this room forever. There was a way out of this, he just had to stay calm and think.

_“Think of three things…three reasons to go home…”_

Yusaku heart rate began to slow. There were three reasons he had to get out of here:

1\. He needed to stop this dimension’s Ai from hurting anymore innocent people, and that meant finding some way to heal his broken heart.

2\. He needed to help Ai and the rest of the people living in this city begin to rebuild their future.

3\. He needed to return to his own dimension so he could continue his search for his Ai and tell him…tell him some very important things.

He opened his eyes. As he did so, he found Roboppi’s very concerned face peering up at him.

“Master…is upset?” they asked tentatively.

He took another deep breath before replying.

“I’m okay, now.”

He turned around, then, moving pointedly away from the door and walking straight to the window directly behind him. He began to examine it thoroughly. It had many small panes of glass, each roughly half the size of a standard piece of paper, and no visible seam in its steel frame to indicate it opened anywhere. He ran his hands over the frame anyway, just to be sure he wasn’t missing something.

“…Master?” Roboppi called after watching him for several minutes. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for a latch,” Yusaku replied very matter-of-factly. “Does this window not open?”

“Oh, no. None of them do. That’s to prevent anyone from sneaking in.”

_Or out_, Yusaku thought wryly. He tested each of the panes of glass, hoping to find a wobble or a chip he could exploit, but the window was perfect and airtight. He sighed heavily and turned back to scan the walls of the room carefully. 

“I don’t suppose there are any large air vents in this room…?”

“No, only floor vents,” Roboppi replied, looking increasingly more perplexed by this line of questioning. They pointed at the small grates about as long and wide as Yusaku’s foot on either side of the fireplace, and the sight of them drew another sigh from Yusaku.

“Of course,” he replied dryly, making his way back to the door. Back to square one, then. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roboppi tilt their head in curiosity.

“Why is Master asking all of these strange questions?”

“Just running through my options.”

“Options? For what?”

“Escape,” Yusaku replied, quirking an eyebrow at the tiny android.

He thought that much would be obvious. He didn’t wait to see the forthcoming reaction, bending over so he could examine the door’s lock. He’d half expected to find an old fashioned skeleton keyhole, but found only a smooth plate of polished brass. He straightened and ran his fingers over it, staring absently at his own reflection in contemplation. Judging from the size of this plate, there was likely some kind of keypad on the other side. He frowned in frustration. If he had some tools and a laptop, he might be able to brute force his way past the key code, but without anything like that at his disposal, he was forced to sit tight and wait for an opportunity to escape. Such a scenario was not ideal.

He caught sight of Roboppi’s flabbergasted expression a moment later in the highly polished brass and turned to offer them another quirked eyebrow. They stamped a foot impatiently at him.

“You aren’t making sense!!” they told him. “Why would Master need to escape??”

Yusaku blinked rapidly.

“I’m a _prisoner_,” he said flatly. “I don’t particularly want to stay that way…”

Roboppi’s eyes widened into two huge saucers. They flailed their hands about wildly in open dismay.

“Master is not a prisoner!! Master is a _guest_!!”

“Oh, so you lock all your guests in?” Yusaku replied wryly.

Roboppi sputtered helplessly for several minutes before throwing up their hands in frustration.

“Big Bro said that Master is our guest! Therefore, Master doesn’t need to escape! Master is safe here with us!!”

Yusaku did not immediately answer. He stood studying the tiny android for a long moment, hand to his chin in thought. Roboppi shifted their feet nervously under his gaze. It was obvious that this Roboppi was far more simple-minded than the one he’d encountered back in his own dimension, but that only brought up more questions. Had this Roboppi ever dueled against Soulburner like the one in his dimension? Had they ever had the capacity for that? Or had this dimension’s Ai not downloaded his more complex programming into Roboppi’s simpler circuitry? 

He had no way to know. There was simply too much he didn’t know about the events of this dimension’s timeline. He could only guess that the Fujiki Yusaku of this dimension had never Dueled with this dimension’s Ai, because that’s what his Ai had said in the moments before he’d dissipated into the network. Yusaku sighed, mentally blowing aside any and all further questions with that breath. He didn’t have time to dive down this rabbit hole. He had much more pressing issues on his mind.

“Roboppi, I…you know I’m not the real Fujiki Yusaku, don’t you? I’m from another dimension. I have to return to _my_ world, and that’s why I have to escape.”

Roboppi tilted their head again curiously.

“But Big Bro said you lost your Big Bro. Big Bro lost Master, and Master lost Big Bro. Master should stay!”

Yusaku shook his head firmly.

“It doesn’t work like that, Roboppi. I can’t stay in your world; I _have_ to return to mine.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

Here, Yusaku stopped. How to explain the way he felt when he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling in the first place? A tiny, selfish part of him argued that there was some truth to what Roboppi was saying. He’d ended up here looking for Ai in the first place, hadn’t he? And he’d found him; why not stay? Why not end the journey here? Start a new life here? After all, couldn’t he do more to help bring about the end of the war and rebuild this city if he stayed here? What kind of hero would he be if he just turned this world upside down and then left everyone again?

Yusaku shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. _No._ He could justify it any which way he might please, but, in the end, it was all wrong. This wasn’t _his_ world to protect or _his _war to end, and it wasn’t _his_ future to rebuild. He wasn’t a part of this world; never had been, never would be. And what’s more…this was not the Ai he’d been searching for. It was _an_ Ai, but not the _right_ one. Not the one he…

“Because I don’t belong here,” he finished, opening his eyes. “I’m sorry, Roboppi, but I can’t stay.”

Roboppi stamped their foot impatiently once more.

“Master _must_ stay!”

“_No_,” Yusaku said firmly. “I won’t. Please try to understand, Roboppi. This is not my home. I don’t _want_ to stay.”

The android’s eyes widened in sudden shock, and Yusaku was surprised to find some level of comprehension in them. He’d expected more protestations, perhaps even outrage like what he’d gotten from Ai, but instead, Roboppi became very, very quiet in thought. They folded their hands together and looked solemnly at the floor, their brow furrowing for a moment as if deeply considering his words. Their expression turned sympathetic when they met his gaze once again. 

“You’re not happy here.”

It was not a question. Yusaku felt something almost like relief sweep through him in the face of this unexpected understanding, and maybe even a little hope. He nodded.

“I’m not, and I won’t be no matter how long I stay. In fact, the longer you try to keep me here, the more unhappy I’ll become.”

Roboppi frowned worriedly.

“I don’t want Master to be unhappy…”

Before they could finish speaking, the door to the room opened and a SOLdier entered, wheeling before it a silver dinner cart with food on plates of fine china and various drinks in crystal glasses.

“Your breakfast has arrived~!” the SOLdier said in that cheery Ai voice. “Please feel free to take your time and enjoy your meal~!" 

“No, thanks,” Yusaku replied, grabbing the nearest plate with two hands and smashing its contents into the android’s face.

As it flailed and beeped wildly in alarm and confusion, he took his opening and raced out the open door. He barely made it two steps past the doorframe, however, when one of the two SOLdiers stationed outside his door grabbed him swiftly by the arms and pulled him back. It quickly pinned his wrists behind his back, and he squirmed in its grip.

“_Unauthorized action detected_,” it said in that low, menacing Ai voice. “_Subject: Fujiki Yusaku to remain in quarters until authorized for exploration by the Emperor._”

“Maybe I’m trying to see your Emperor right now to ask for authorization,” Yusaku insisted acidly.

He’d just about had his fill of being manhandled in the last 48 hours, although there seemed to be very little he could do against the inhuman strength of the android aside from a lot of ineffectual squirming. 

“_Deception detected,” _the SOLdier responded smoothly. Apparently, they _could_ understand sarcasm._ “Protocol override denied. Subject: Fujiki Yusaku to remain in quarters until authorized for exploration by the Emperor.”_

“So you’ve said. Now _get off me_.”

“_Request denied. Subject: Fujiki Yusaku to—_”

“Shut up,” Yusaku snapped testily.

He found himself spun back around towards the door and, in an act of desperation, he braced his feet against either side of the doorframe.

“_No!”_ he hissed through gritted teeth, knowing that the modicum of resistance he’d managed to achieve would not last for very long. He tried not to think about his legs being snapped off and shoved back hard against the android’s grasp. “_I have to see Ai!!”_

The second SOLdier moved in to help the first restrain him, but before it could actually lay hands on Yusaku, a blinding streak of light shot past him and exploded the SOLdier’s head into dust. The headless body felt around frantically for its head for a second before it finally collapsed in a heap and was still. A second flash followed shortly thereafter, and suddenly Yusaku was momentarily suspended in midair as the SOLdier supporting his weight suddenly disappeared. His arms pinwheeled uselessly before he hit the floor heavily with a grunt. 

He looked over his shoulder in time to see the SOLdier behind him fall to the ground, but then his eyes were drawn back in surprise to the bedroom. Roboppi lowered their arm, revealing it had been transformed into some kind of laser cannon, its barrel still glowing from the last charge. 

“Roboppi was programmed to assist Master,” they said, shrugging at his stunned expression.

There was no time to ask questions, it seemed. Roboppi hurriedly pulled him to his feet and then ran off down the hall, half dragging Yusaku down the corridor to a stairwell door. They had just pulled open the door when a few SOLdiers suddenly began flooding the hallway behind them. Roboppi yanked Yusaku behind them, pressing him tight to the wall.

“Aw, nerts! They’re on to us!” they said, taking careful aim with their arm cannon and shooting down a few of the first responders. “Hurry up and open the door!!”

Yusaku’s head was spinning. Things were happening very fast again, much faster than he could process, and there were so many questions he wanted to ask. But, instead, he turned and shoved open the stairwell door, nearly falling into the space beyond. Roboppi backed in slowly, taking out a few more SOLdiers before spinning on their heel and grabbing Yusaku’s wrist once more, dragging him down the stairs.

“Come on! I know where Big Bro’s keeping your Duel Disk!”

Countless steps flew past them. Yusaku stopped trying to count how many floors they passed when Roboppi finally halted at another door. They pressed their ear to it for a few heartbeats, listening intently. Then, they cautiously opened the door and looked around. All was quiet. They motioned Yusaku into the hall and stepped out after him. This corridor looked just much like the others, all grey walls, steel doors, and polished concrete floors, but before Yusaku could fully appreciate the overwhelming blandness of the scenery, another group of SOLdiers emerged from a room, taking aim at he and Roboppi with their rifles. Roboppi immediately shoved Yusaku to the side, trying to get him as far out of range as possible. Yusaku’s hands scrabbled at the wall as he fought to keep to his feet. He turned and pressed his back to the wall, eyes widening as he took in the scene.

“_Subject: Fujiki Yusaku to remain in quarters until authorized for exploration by the Emperor,” _the SOLdiers chorused in unison.

“Well, nerts to the Emperor,” Roboppi replied, sticking out their tongue before opening fire on the group.

Yusaku watched in growing horror as several laser blasts took out one SOLdier after another, all falling to the ground in a cacophony of metallic clangs and heavy thuds. He looked over at Roboppi and found them looking quite wide-eyed with glee at the sight of all this carnage. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, as if he could somehow dismiss the disturbing image before him with that simple gesture. The longer he stayed in this dimension, the more perverse it seemed to become. The familiar pang of homesickness only sharpened in his gut. He wanted to be home where things made sense, and he found, to his surprise, that he had never wanted to hear Kusanagi’s calm voice as much as he did in this moment. Kusanagi could always explain things that didn’t make sense to him. He fought down a small bubble of panic as he tried to remind himself that Kusanagi was still safe and alive back in his own dimension, and that, soon enough, the man wouldn’t be more than a simple phone call away.

At least, he hoped as much.

His thoughts returned to the present to find that the wall of SOLdiers blocking their path was gone, and Roboppi was taking his wrist to lead him away again, stepping delicately over the carnage of broken, smoking androids. 

They stopped in front of a set of double doors. To the right across from these doors was an open atrium with a spiraling staircase that lead down to a lower level. Two huge windows let sunlight stream across the atrium and fill the chamber with light. It felt warm against Yusaku’s face, but he didn’t have much time to appreciate it, for Roboppi had pushed open the doors and was pulling him away from the sun into the shadowy chamber beyond.

The room was lit by a ludicrous amount of LED screens spread across every wall. A lone chair occupied the center of the room in front of a huge console littered with rows and rows of buttons and switches. There were so many that Yusaku couldn’t even begin to guess what all of them did, and, truthfully, he wasn’t looking too closely at them anyway. Instead, he found himself staggered by the hundreds, maybe even thousands of monitors surrounding him. There was something different playing on each monitor, and the clamor of visual noise was enough to make Yusaku feel vaguely nauseous. 

“What is this place?” he asked, looking to Roboppi to avoid the monitors as much as possible, although the chaos at the edges of his vision somehow made the dizziness worse.

“The AISPY mainframe,” the tiny android replied. “Big Bro keeps track of everything from this room.” 

They looked a bit forlorn as they studied the monitors around them.

“He spends all of his time in this room, now. I hardly see him at all, anymore.”

The words had Yusaku searching the room again in a new light. From here, Ai constantly watched everyone and everything? How many hours had he lost in isolation, watching life pass him by? No wonder he was so lonely; it was a bit like living in a fishbowl. He could see the world but never touch it. Could see life playing out before him, but never be a part of it. Yusaku felt an incredible ache of empathy and sadness for Ai in that moment. He knew something of that loneliness. At one time in his life, he’d felt like an outsider, too, kept apart from the outside world by the yawning chasm of his trauma and forever unable to connect. The difference, he noted, was that Ai had made his chasm a literal divide; had only widened the gap, instead.

He stirred from his thoughts as Roboppi approached with his Duel Disk. He had just locked it around his wrist and opened his mouth to ask another question, when the doors behind them burst open. They whirled as one to find a dark form in a familiar cape silhouetted in the doorway. Before either he or Roboppi could react, a writhing mass of tentacles cut through the air and slammed into Yusaku, smashing him back against the console with enough force to crush the very air from his lungs. Stunned by the blow, there was nothing he could do to prevent some of those tentacles from coiling around his arms, legs and waist. He shuddered in revulsion as he was hoisted easily off the floor and squirmed feebly against their grasp.

“_Why_ must you insist on making _everything_ so _difficult_?!” Ai demanded angrily as he stepped into the room. “Why can’t you ever just sit still and_ behave_ like a _normal_ human instead of doing _stupid things_ like trying to escape?!”

The tendril around his waist tightened with frightening suddenness, squeezing harder and harder against his ribs until a choked cry was forced out from between his clenched teeth. Yusaku struggled weakly some more.

“Big Bro, stop!” cried Roboppi, running over and trying, in vain, to tear Yusaku loose from the mass of tentacles. “You’re hurting him!!”

“Roboppi?! What are you _doing_?! Why are you helping him?!”

“Because he has to go home!!”

The pressure against Yusaku’s waist loosened, and he took a grateful gulp of precious air. Ai, meanwhile, turned a sickly-sweet smile on Roboppi. 

“Stupid Roboppi~!” he teased. “Master _is _home~! He belongs with us, remember~?” 

“‘Stupid’ is a forbidden word,” Roboppi snapped back defiantly, lifting their chin in challenge at the dark expression that crossed Ai’s face in response.

“Roboppi,” the dark android said warningly, “you are going against protocol. Roboppi is programmed—!”

“_Roboppi is programmed to assist Master, but Master is dead!!”_

Ai visibly flinched away from the passionate words. Roboppi balled their small hands into fists and took a step forward, their expression pleading.

“_Please,_ Big Bro! This is _not_ Master! He won’t be happy here with us!! We can’t keep him where he’ll be unhappy all the time!! Please let him go!!”

Helplessly suspended off the floor, there was nothing Yusaku could do as Ai let out a shriek of rage and lashed out with his remaining tentacles, snapping them like coiled vipers at the tiny android. Roboppi darted about frantically, barely managing to stay out of range for a little bit before one tentacle swept across and caught them squarely in the chest, sending them flying into a wall of countless monitors, spraying glass and sparks everywhere.

“_Roboppi!!_” Yusaku screamed, but his breath was cut off as the tentacles holding him jerked suddenly, causing his jaw to snap shut so quickly, he nearly bit off his own tongue.

“You never could keep from causing trouble, could you, Yusaku,” rumbled Ai.

Yusaku felt himself being lowered back towards the floor and could only stare in mute terror as Ai brought him within reach. Another tentacle suddenly slithered around his throat as Ai produced a slender silver circlet from somewhere under his cloak. He fingered the item carefully for a long moment.

“I don’t want to do this,” he finally said, sounding exhausted. “Believe me, I don’t. I like you much better with your free will intact, but I _can’t_ have you attempting any more escapes.” 

He held the circlet up in front of Yusaku, studying his expression carefully as he let him fully appreciate his fate. He seemed almost tired and resigned, but Yusaku was no less petrified of him. Ai sighed heavily.

“This mind control device will keep you nice and docile until I am done wiping out the remaining rebels in this city. Maybe after that, I can let you loose again.”

He grasped the circlet in both hands and stepped forward. Yusaku writhed wildly, choking as the tentacle around his throat squeezed, a warning to stay still. 

“_Ai, don’t!_” he rasped, racking his brain for something, _anything _that might get him out of this.

Ai’s expression was almost apologetic.

“I’m _sorry_, Yusaku, but you aren’t giving me any other choice.”

The circlet was centimeters from his scalp. It grazed his hair lightly. Yusaku wanted to sob, wanted to beg, but terror kept all of his emotions locked up tightly inside of him. He prayed for a miracle.

Over Ai’s left shoulder, a monitor suddenly brightened as a figure clad in white suddenly skidded on screen. It was Revolver. Clearly engaged in some sort of confrontation, the man rose from his crouched position and drew a card from his Deck. A moment later, the Monster contained within it shimmered into existence and rushed away. Like lightning, the solution struck Yusaku with startling clarity.

_Link VRAINS and the real world were one here._

It was the smallest scrap for survival, but Yusaku dove after it like a starving animal.

_“**INTO THE VRAINS!!**_” he screamed – a desperate prayer torn from his frightened lips.

The voice recognition program on his Duel Disk answered immediately, beeping in confirmation of his command and summoning the familiar globe of light that heralded a login to Link VRAINS. Ai shrieked, recoiling from that light in an instant, the tentacles holding Yusaku completely disintegrating.

_“No!!_” he howled in dismay, taking more steps back and shielding his eyes.

In a magnificent swirl of data, light, and energy, Fujiki Yusaku’s normal appearance was quickly and effortlessly replaced by that of Playmaker’s. The moment the suit fully materialized, Playmaker acted. With a quick wave of his hand, he summoned his D-Board and hopped aboard, rising high into the air before Ai could react. He swooped over to where Roboppi had disappeared among the destroyed monitors. 

“Roboppi!!” he called, extending a hand, and the tiny robot did not hesitate. They immediately jumped, grabbing his hand and swinging up onto the D-Board before him. 

“_NO!!”_ Ai snarled, and new tentacles sprang from his back, grasping desperately for Playmaker, but Playmaker was far too quick, easily darting around the writhing limbs and making it safely into the atrium beyond. 

“_Now!_” he urged, grabbing Roboppi’s shoulder and pointing at one of the windows.

Roboppi’s gun arm came up in a flash, blasting a hole in the pane and sending another shower of glass sparkling through the air.

_“Don’t let them get away!!_” screamed Ai as SOLdiers filled the hall around him.

He rushed to the railing, grasping it tightly in his gloved hands as his teeth gnashed angrily. Playmaker looked back and met his gaze for only the briefest of moments, but somehow, so much passed between them in those few seconds. There was an unspoken, shared torment on both of their faces – a profound, mutual grief and an understanding that this was how things would have to be unless one of them changed their mind.

Shaken by the intimacy of that gaze, Playmaker almost pulled to a stop; almost turned to say something to Ai – to apologize. To explain. To beg him to see reason. But then he gritted his teeth determinedly and tore his eyes away. It was not the right time for that conversation. He could see that clearly on Ai’s face.

_I’ll be back, Ai_, he thought as he pushed the D-Board up and out the broken window, racing away across the city with Roboppi in tow. _And when I do, I’ll know what to say._


	10. Nobody's Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Playmaker once again fulfills his promise to Kusanagi.

_“The best things in life_  
_Come with a price_  
_The star that burned so bright faded the fastest_  
_You'll always feel it's right_  
_Even when we end the fight_  
_Welcome home, home tonight_”

_-**Done For You**, Black Veil Brides_

_“To heal your scars  
I will give you everything I can  
This war of hearts  
We will rise again and take a stand  
I can lead you to salvation  
Yet I am just a man  
__I'm a loaded gun_  
_An only son_  
_But I'm nobody's hero_”

_-**Nobody’s Hero**, Black Veil Brides_

“Careful!!”

One of Brave Max’s hands flashed out, catching the little old woman seconds before she fell to the ground.

“Are you alright?!” he asked, taking a moment to look her over.

“Oh my, yes!” she said, pressing a hand lightly to her chest as she tried to calm down from the jolt of surprise. She beamed up at him a moment after she’d fully caught her breath. “Just stumbled on a stone, is all. I’m alright now.”

“I’m glad to hear it!”

“Dearie, have you seen my grand—?”

“_Grandma!” _cut in a voice before she could finish the question. It belonged to a young man not much older than Brave Max, whose blue eyes were swimming with worry. He hurried to his grandmother’s side.

“Grandma, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

His grandmother patted his arm soothingly, but the gesture and her gentle smile did very little to alleviate the worry in his eyes.

“I’m terribly sorry to have worried you, my dear. I thought you were right behind me!”

The young man stared at Brave Max rather suspiciously, but his grandmother patted his arm again before he could speak.

“Now, now; don’t look so stern! This nice boy caught me before I fell flat on my face just now!”

She smiled up at Brave Max warmly.

“Thank you so much, Broad Max.”

Brave Max’s forehead twitched. Before he could react, however, her grandson gave a curt bow of thanks to Brave Max and took the old woman by the arm, ushering her back into the flow of foot traffic headed for the refugee camp.

“It’s _Brave_ Max,” Brave Max was left to mutter to himself, kicking a rock. It had been two years already, so why did everyone have so much trouble remembering his name?? It wasn’t even that difficult of a name! He sighed resignedly and quickly moved off, climbing on top of a tall, makeshift platform that had been formed from a broken wall held aloft by metal struts and a pile of rubble. From here, he had a very good view of the entire area. The crowd of refugees was more than halfway to their destination and would likely reach the last Hanoi stronghold before sundown. A line of masked Knights brought up the rear of the exodus, and Brave Max could just make out their tiny white forms from where he stood.

Beyond them, Emperor Ai’s fortress loomed dark and forbidding, an unavoidable reminder of what these people were fleeing. Brave Max felt a small twinge of anxiety at the sight of that black tower. It surprised him as always, however, that he did not immediately answer his inner urge to run. Two years back, he absolutely would have, and would have left the fighting to those more capable, too, like Soulburner, or Blue Maiden, or Go Onizuka.

Or even Playmaker.

But Playmaker had been inexplicably absent for the last two years. There were rumors circulating around that he was dead; that Emperor Ai had killed him just as he had killed nearly everyone who stood against him, but they were just rumors. No one had been able to confirm anything for certain, but it was the genuinely accepted theory. Brave Max didn’t like to think of Playmaker being dead, but why else would he be missing? The possible alternative answers to that question left a very uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Playmaker wouldn’t abandon people; he wouldn’t. That wasn’t like him. He wouldn’t leave people to die like this, not unless something terrible had happened to him, as well.

Inevitably, thinking of terrible things like that always brought him back to the image of his classmate, Fujiki Yusaku being torn apart by bullets and crumpling to the ground before the live feed was cut. He balled his hands into fists. That moment would be burned into Shima Naoki’s memory forever. Although they hadn’t been particularly close, Shima had realized pretty quickly after their first conversation that his feelings for Fujiki were based on something more than just idle curiosity about his mysterious, attractive classmate who had never been awake for class lectures and who had often disappeared at very odd times throughout the school day. He’d never really gotten the chance to get to know him, and yet he felt Fujiki’s absence quite keenly. He was just _gone_ and the reality of that shook Shima to his core. There were some days when Fujiki’s death felt like it had happened eons ago, and others when he half expected Fujiki to show up and make some kind of sarcastic observation about something. But he was gone, and Shima had spent the better part of two years sorting through the mess of his feelings while the whole world was literally falling apart around him.

The merging of Link VRAINS and the real world had had devastating effects on the environment. Entire ecosystems had been wiped out in a single instant, and the concussive blast that came after the completion of the merge had toppled most of the buildings in the city. No one had really known what was going on, until – to everyone’s great surprise – Revolver had issued a broadcast on the last free frequency throughout the city. Shima remembered that moment, huddled in the car with his parents, attempting to flee the confines of the city. Revolver had called for every available Duelist to come with him and reform the Knights of Hanoi – this time to protect humanity, not destroy it. Expressly against his parents’ wishes and with little confidence in his fledgling Dueling skills, Shima Naoki had answered the call.

It’s what Playmaker would have wanted him to do, he liked to think, but on some level, he supposed it had also been a matter of pride. He didn’t want to see anyone else he cared for getting hurt, and if he could help even in some small way, he felt duty bound to do so. In the two short years up to now, he’d found his skills had rapidly improved. He could hold his own in a Duel now and had even been promoted to a full Knight of Hanoi. It felt strange sometimes to be working for someone who had once been the enemy of Playmaker, but Soulburner and Blue Maiden had joined up with Revolver without hesitation, which made Brave Max feel greatly reassured in his decision.

And now, here he was, taking part in his first big mission to evacuate the last few citizens from the city. Go Onizuka and Faust were leading the migration, but someone had to run between the head of the company and the back to relay messages. And that’s where Brave Max came in. Something big was mounting. Revolver had said so. He believed that Ai’s final assault was coming, but he had not been able so far to say when. But would it be the last stand for the humans of Den City, Brave Max couldn’t help but wonder, even now. The thought frightened him a bit. He gritted his teeth and stared down the Emperor’s fortress again. It was a stark black silhouette cutting through the horizon, as if straining against the very earth upon which it stood to blot out the sun. He could almost picture the maddened SOLtis seething in its hatred of humanity from within, and he had to suppress a shudder.

He scanned the crowd of people moving steadily past his platform, instead. Their faces were all grim and wary, fear plain in their eyes. They sensed the impending doom, too, knowing full well that they were all on their way to the very last hole they had to hide in. After this, there would be nowhere left to run. Aid was not coming – Emperor Ai had seen to that, systematically hacking frequencies one by one until he had total control over all of them. Den City could no longer communicate with her sister cities. All that was left to her citizens was a life-or-death struggle where the odds were stacked against them and the end result was total annihilation. And although his skills were better now, Brave Max still always felt incredibly scared in these situations. A lot was riding on him; he had to protect these people.

Playmaker wouldn’t be scared, he thought grimly. Playmaker would be doing whatever he had to in order to win out the day, and ultimately, he would emerge victorious. He always won.

But Playmaker was nowhere to be found, and neither, it seemed, was hope.

Brave Max sighed wistfully and stared up forlornly at the sky. Not for the first time, he sincerely wished he could talk to Playmaker again – maybe even glean some wisdom from him. It had been so long since he’d last seen his hero that he was almost beginning to believe the man had never even existed in the first place; that he had been nothing more than an awe-inspiring dream. If only he could see him once more. Maybe, then, humanity might have a chance.

A vision of Playmaker flying overhead on his D-Board appeared before his eyes. He almost had to laugh at himself. Was this the breaking point for him, then? Was he starting to hallucinate, already? The image from his mind was so clear and so sharp that he could almost swear it was real.

Brave Max blinked and was quite surprised when his daydream did not end. Playmaker continued steadily towards him. He blinked a second time, a bit more rapidly. Still, the image did not fade away – only got bigger and bigger as Playmaker came closer and closer.

Brave Max pushed up his green visor and rubbed his eyes vigorously.

“_Whaaaaaaaaaaaa???” _he blurted incredulously before realizing this was _not_ a mere creation of his imagination. It was _real_.

“_P-P-Playmaker_?!”

The name erupted from him in a squeal firmly between horror and delight. Could it be true?! Was his hero – his idol! – his _soulmate!! – _returned to him at last?!

Evidently, Playmaker had heard him, for he pulled to a stop suddenly and looked down, scanning the crowd below in confusion. Brave Max waved his arms frantically.

“_Playmaker!!”_

His heart skipped a beat when the legendary Duelist’s gaze finally alighted on him, and the man began a slow, spiraling descent down to his platform. Soon, his heart was pounding wildly in his chest. He felt a sudden spike of anxiety and the growing urge to run and hide before Playmaker could actually reach him. What had he been _thinking_?! What would he even _say_?! ‘_Gee, it’s swell to see you again after all this time?! I missed you so much?! Let’s run away together and leave all this behind?!’_

Brave Max shook his head madly. Okay, no. _Definitely not_ that last one. But he had to think of something quick, because...!

All too soon, Playmaker was dismounting from his D-Board before him, all lithe limbs and effortless grace. Brave Max had almost forgotten how handsome Playmaker truly was in person. Almost immediately, however, he found himself staggered all over again by the pair of the most beautiful, most piercing green eyes he’d ever seen. They were so intense and so focused that Brave Max was certain no one could hide anything from this man at all. Even he wanted throw himself down at Playmaker’s feet at this very moment and confess to everything.

He just hoped the rumor that Playmaker could read minds was still only just a rumor, because there were several thoughts running through his mind right now that should probably just…stay there…

He grinned eagerly, enthusiasm finally winning out over anxiety. This was his soulmate, after all; he had nothing to fear from Playmaker. Brave Max knew this to be true deep in his heart. He stepped forward, grabbing one of Playmaker’s slender hands and shaking it vigorously in greeting.

“Playmaker!! I can’t believe we ran into each other like this!! Where have you been all this time?!”

Playmaker seemed to struggle for a reply. No doubt he was overcome with emotion at seeing Brave Max, again, after all this time. Before he could speak, however, a small person with bright blue hair streaked in pink and yellow poked around him and blinked up at Brave Max curiously. They broke into a wide grin a moment later.

“Oh, hey!!” they chirped, “You’re that guy! Grave Max, right??”

Brave Max reddened and stuttered angrily for several seconds.

“It’s _Brave_ Max!! _Brave!!”_

A pregnant pause followed as he fully considered the person — and fully considered the glowing diamond on their throat.

“_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!” _he suddenly screamed, jumping back half a step. “_S-S-SOL—!!”_

The word he was about to shriek was cut off as Playmaker’s hand shot forward and slapped across his lips. Playmaker’s expression turned almost pleading, his voice sounding very tired.

“Please don’t. You’ll send all these people into an unnecessary panic.”

Brave Max’s mind whirled wildly in growing alarm. This couldn’t be happening. Playmaker wouldn’t –! He couldn’t —!

“_Why _are you traveling with_…_with…_the enemy_?!_”_ he hissed lowly the moment Playmaker’s hand withdrew.

Playmaker only looked more exhausted, and it made Brave Max’s gut squirm unhappily.

“Roboppi’s not the enemy…” he began wearily.

“That’s right!” chirped the tiny android. “Roboppi is programmed to…!”

They stopped suddenly and blinked for a long moment, expression shifting into something less cheerful and more thoughtful. Finally, they looked up at Playmaker.

“Roboppi _wants_ to assist _Not_-Master,” they finished a bit uncertainly.

But Playmaker smiled warmly at them, and their cheerfulness returned. Clearly, something meaningful had just occurred between them, but Brave Max had far too many questions and was filled with far too much concern to fully comprehend the exchange. None of this was making any sense. Had Playmaker not been around all these years because he was working for the Emperor?! Brave Max couldn’t accept that. He just couldn’t. There had to be more to this story.

“Where is the camp?” Playmaker suddenly asked just before Brave Max could voice his first question. “I need to find Revolver.”

Before Brave Max could respond, a voice called out from the crowd below them, “_It’s Playmaker!!” _

His presence had finally been noted by others, it seemed. Playmaker’s eyes grew wide in astonishment and he turned towards the voice. Several people had gathered around their platform, all straining for a glimpse at the legendary Duelist who’d been missing in action all these years. Curiosity buzzed in the air, only drawing more people to the area. They began to press closer to the platform, some reaching up towards him with their hands, as if hoping to touch him and confirm for themselves that he was actually real.

Playmaker took several cautious steps back from the growing crowd, staying well out of range and looking increasingly nervous by all this unexpected attention. One of his arms swung around to catch hold of Roboppi and push them behind him, shielding them from the crowd’s view. Brave Max moved forward a few steps, holding his hands up defensively and trying to urge the crowd to keep moving. They truly couldn’t afford any delays, but his efforts went largely ignored as still more people gathered. 

"Please, please, move along," he tried, until a voice like a whip crack abruptly cut through all the noise.

_“How dare you show your face here!_”

Like a frightened herd of cattle, the crowd hurried to get out of the way of the speaker. It was a young girl about the same age as Brave Max and Playmaker. She was quite a striking figure in her long white dress, the skirt stirring in the wind and giving her a very mysterious but very aggressive aura. She stalked forward into the opening that the crowd had created, fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her dark eyes were locked on Playmaker, who seemed likewise transfixed.

“Where _were_ you?!” she demanded. “Two years ago, when the Emperor attacked us – where _were _you?! We _needed_ you, and you were _nowhere_ to be found!!”

She suddenly tore her phone from the pocket of her long cardigan sweater, fumbling for a moment as she tried to find something. A second later, she held up the device. Her hand was visibly shaking, and Brave Max could barely make out the image of a small boy smiling widely in a cheeky, gap-toothed grin, proudly brandishing a Duel Disk on his tiny wrist.

“_That was my little brother!_” she snarled. Tears ran briefly down her cheeks, but they dried up quickly in the heat of her anger. “_He never stopped believing in you!! _He said to me all the time — ‘Playmaker will come and save us!’ _So where were you when my little brother needed you?!_ _Why have you just stood by and let this war happen?! **Why** did you let him **die**?!”_

An uneasy murmur of begrudging agreement began to ripple through the crowd at her words.

“_Answer me_!!” she only demanded louder.

“Yeah!!” a man suddenly piped up from somewhere off to the right. “What about my wife?! My kids will have to grow up without a mother because of this war!!”

“Some hero!!” an old woman towards the front spat. Actual spit followed her words a moment later, falling just short of Playmaker’s feet. She shook her cane at him. “If it wasn’t for the Knights of Hanoi, we’d all be dead!! You’re no hero!! You’re nothing by a coward!!”

A chorus of “_coward!!_” and “_no hero!!”_ swelled through the crowd after that. Curiosity was quickly replaced by open hostility and anger. Brave Max did not like where this was going and took a quick step in front of Playmaker.

“Stop it!!” he shouted. “Have you all forgotten all the times Playmaker saved us in the past?!”

“Yeah, he’s real brave when the fights take place in virtual reality!” someone sneered. “But I bet he’s too chicken to fight a _real_ battle, _aren’t you, you piece of garbage_?!

An empty food container followed those words, sailing past Brave Max and hitting Playmaker squarely in the chest. More garbage followed, the crowd whipping up into a frenzy as if they had finally found a viable target upon which to vent their anger. Brave Max stuttered and flailed, trying desperately to get them all to stop and see reason, but his words were being drowned out by the crowd’s ire. He pulled the shield from his back and turned to Playmaker.

“Let’s get out of here!” he urged.

But Playmaker just stood where he was as if rooted to his spot, letting the garbage rain down on him as he silently scanned the crowd. There was no judgement in his expression; no fear, nor anger, nor even indignation. Just quiet resignation. He looked as if he agreed with them, as if he believed he deserved all of this hatred and abuse, and the weariness in his face just made Brave Max’s heart squeeze painfully in sympathy. He turned back to the crowd, determined to do his best to shield his hero from the worst of the attacks.

It went on and on for several minutes. Brave Max hoped that when they ran out of garbage to throw, they would get tired of it and move on, but then a rock clanged against his shield, and he turned to look at Playmaker in alarm. This was starting to get very dangerous.

“Not-Master, _please_!” he heard Roboppi beg. “You’ll get hurt if you stay any longer!!”

Playmaker did not reply. He stepped forward, instead, laying a hand on Brave Max’s shoulder as he passed beyond the protection of his shield and came to a stop at the edge of the platform. Shocked by his boldness, people froze mid-throw and looked up at him expectantly. He ignored most of them and soon locked eyes once more with the girl in the white dress. She had not taken part in the attack; had not even moved from her spot. She was clearly still waiting for his answer.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” he said to her quietly. “I know that an apology won’t bring him back, nor will it make up for my absence, but please believe me when I tell you: I’m _sorry_.”

His words were so heartfelt and honest that the crowd seemed stunned by his sincerity. Brave Max watched as one by one, they lowered their arms and let the stones drop to the ground, now more curious to hear what he had to say than angry at him.

“I don’t have a good explanation for why I’ve been gone so long or why I haven’t been around to help,” he went on, and although he continued to speak in a quiet voice, his words somehow still carried easily through the area. “And I’m sorry about that, too, but I promise — I’m doing everything I can right now to bring an end to this war. I know that simply ending it isn’t going to bring back all the people you’ve lost or the homes that were destroyed. I know it won’t change what you all have suffered over the course of the last two years. And I’m _sorry_ for that. I…wish I had the power to undo what's been done, but I don’t. I can’t change what’s happened. None of us can. But each of us does have another power – the kind that can shape our _future_.”

The crowd was absolutely riveted by his words. Even Brave Max found himself being drawn in by Playmaker’s honesty and open passion.

“Each and everyone one of us gets to decide right here and now how we want to change our destinies. We get to choose for ourselves right now how we want the world of tomorrow to look. I don’t know about you, but I want tomorrow to be the day that all this pain and suffering you’ve endured ends. I want to see a place where you all can stop running and start rebuilding your lives, and I promise you, I won’t stop fighting until I see that happen.”

“So, _what_?!” the girl in the white dress cut in. “Are we just supposed to let go of what’s been done and _move on_?! I’m just supposed to _suck it up and pretend_ _none of this ever happened_?! That my little brother never _died_?! _Or maybe that he never existed at all_?!”

Her words caused another ripple of agreement to break through the crowd, but Playmaker silenced it by holding up one hand.

“_No_,” he replied. “You don’t just _get_ _over_ things that happen to you. You _never_ get over them. But you learn how to get _through_ them.”

For the first time since she had appeared to him, the girl’s face shifted from rage into something slightly more curious. Seeming encouraged by this, Playmaker pressed on.

“You can feel sad. You can feel _angry_. What’s happened is _awful_, and nothing anyone tells you will ever change that. Some of you may want to seek revenge for the people you’ve lost, but something like that doesn’t really get you what you want.”

He was staring past the crowd, now, and Brave Max could tell his words were coming from a place of experience. A moment later, the look vanished, and his piercing eyes locked onto one person after another in the crowd, bringing their attention squarely on him.

“You have all gone through this terrible thing together. You have people around you who know and understand something of your grief. So, share in that with each other. Let it bond you to one another, and let those bonds give you the strength you’ll need to get through each day. You’ll have to teach each other how to live in this world without the people who have died. It will be hard, but if you work together, you can do it. No one is ever meant to experience grief alone – at least, I don’t think so. It’s only in forming bonds with other people that I’ve ever found any measure of peace. That I ever found solace for the pain I felt.”

He found the girl again. They locked eyes for a third time, and, for a moment, it seemed as if the whole world fell away around them and it was just the two of them, having a quiet conversation.

“The pain never goes away completely,” he told her. “But with other people supporting you, it gets a little easier to bear. I promise.”

Her lower lip quivered. She buried her face into her hands as a sob escaped her. Immediately, several others in the crowd moved to embrace her, offering quiet words of compassion and comfort. Playmaker turned to Brave Max.

“Take me to Revolver. I need to talk to him right away.”

Brave Max nodded. Just as he replaced his shield on his back, the sound of clapping suddenly filled the air. As one, he and Playmaker turned back towards the crowd, looking equally surprised. The old woman in the front who had only moments ago spit at Playmaker’s feet stood with a solemn expression on her face, tears rimming her grey eyes. Her hands moved again, clapping louder and more insistently. Around her, several people exchanged looks before they, too, began to clap. The applause grew and grew until it was almost deafening. Cheers and whistles replaced the jeers and mockery from earlier. In only a few brief moments, Playmaker had won them all over again, and Brave Max was glad.

He offered Playmaker a wide grin, but Playmaker only hunched his shoulders and looked rather sheepish. He offered a shy wave in acknowledgement before quickly summoning his D-Board and climbing on it with Roboppi. Brave Max followed suit with his own D-Board, and then led the way towards their destination where Revolver was waiting.


	11. Lost It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Playmaker's plea falls on seemingly deaf ears.

_“I stood above  
Another war  
Another jewel upon the crown  
I was the fear of men  
But I was blind  
I couldn't see the world there right in front of me  
But now I can  
  
'Cause I lost it all  
Dead and broken  
My back's against the wall  
Cut me open  
I'm just trying to breathe  
Just trying to figure it out  
Because I built these walls to watch them crumbling down, I’m saying  
Then I lost it all  
And who can save me now?”_

_-**Lost It All**, Black Veil Brides_

Ai did not know how long he’d been sitting in the AISPY control room with his face buried in the palm of one hand. He wasn’t sure he really cared, either.

Around him, he could hear the crackle, hiss, and pop of exposed wiring, and the dying hum of a hundred hard drives. He barely remembered tearing apart the AISPY’s main console in his maelstrom of rage; hardly recalled ripping monitor after monitor from the walls with his bare hands. He hadn’t bothered to keep count of how much equipment he’d smashed against the concrete floor, but by the time his anger had finally played out, he found himself sitting amidst shattered glass and twisted steel, and most of the room had gone dark around him. Now, only a few monitors remained lit, some flickering feebly in their death throes while others displayed a constant stream of snowy white static.

He let out a long sigh, finally, and dragged his hand down his face before leaning back heavily in his chair. His eyes scanned the room listlessly. Sparks briefly illuminated the shadows with harsh sizzles, and smoke wafted lazily through the air. He knew definitively that the AISPY mainframe was dead. It would take several days to repair all this damage, and Ai knew he should get some of the repair droids started on it right away, but, honestly, why bother? He did not need the AISPY anymore. The end was finally upon him.

How long had he been at this? Two measly years, and yet now it seemed like it had been an eternity. He was tired of all of this; tired of this city and its people and this world. He was tired of the destruction and the death that surrounded him; tired of the darkness that closed about him tighter and tighter every day. Why was he still doing all of this? What was the point of it all, anymore? His grief and rage felt so utterly meaningless to him, now. None of it would bring Yusaku back to him. He had always known that, of course, but there had been a reason for attacking the humans. Two years ago, there had been a very clear reason for starting this war, but strangely, Ai could not recall what it was, anymore. He’d grown so numb to everything after two years, that he’d continued his onslaught more out of habit than anything else.

But then _he’d _come — the imposter parading around with Yusaku’s face. Seeing that face again after two years had been like a bolt of lightning to his circuitry; had awakened a pain Ai had believed he had buried in the basement of this fortress long ago. _Everything_ hurt, absolutely _everything, _in a way that Ai could not soothe. He felt so incredibly _lonely_, and he hated it. He’d gone comfortably numb, finally; why did this stranger have to come around with his familiar face and _ruin _everything?! How _dare_ he walk around wearing that face. How _dare_ he speak as if he understood _anything_ of what Ai had lost! Part of Ai had _died_ that day, and this _pretender_ thought he knew anything of what that felt like?! How _dare _he!!

Ai realized his mistake all too well now. He’d mistakenly thought the imposter a blessing – a gift from a sympathetic god to free Ai from this living hell. In reality, the stranger had been a curse – a cruel lie, no more than a joke played upon him by some dispassionate deity. The universe had no love to give the Ignis. From the moment they had been born, everyone and everything had tried to eradicate them. It was obvious to Ai now that he was not welcome in this world; had never been wanted in the first place. Fate had tried at every turn for 12 years to eliminate him, and now, it had come for him again in the specter of his dead partner.

His leather gloves creaked as he balled his hands into impossibly tight fists. The only person who’d ever made him believe he had a right to be in this world had been Yusaku. Yusaku had believed in the good in him; had protected and defended him when no one else had. Yusaku had believed that Ignis and humans could coexist, and he had died for that belief. Ai’s hands shook. Without Yusaku, the world had lost all of its color. And then, for the briefest and cruelest of moments, Ai had been reminded why he’d once loved the color green, and why now he hated it. _Oh,_ how he _hated_ that color – the color of life and growing things. It was only a painful reminder of what he could never, ever possess. His was a world of blackness and death; of machines and rust and decay. Nothing could ever live or grow in such a world – not humans and not Ignis, either.

The gears in his hands whined in protest as he squeezed them ever tighter. Very well. If the world wanted to spit in his face like this and destroy him with the apparition of Yusaku, then he accepted that fate. But that did not mean he had to go smilingly or quietly to his death. He’d take the imposter out with him. He’d wrap his metal hands around that pretender’s throat and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze before he’d allow himself to become scrap metal.

He rose from his chair at last and swept out into the hall with a snap of his cape. The cleaning bots which had been removing the destroyed and broken SOLdiers from the hallway scattered from him like nervous pigeons. A moment later, they cautiously regrouped before him to await his next command. He glared down at them.

“Bring me my Duel Disk,” he hissed, and one bot practically squealed as it raced off to complete that order. The others scattered in all directions, trying to get out of Ai’s way as he stepped towards the atrium and glared at the broken window.

It was time to hunt.

-.-.-

The last stronghold of the human race in Den City at least _looked_ the part of a stronghold. Walls at least 20 feet high formed a barrier on three sides of the large complex. The very back of the camp butted up against cliffs that looked out over the ocean. Playmaker recognized Stardust Road immediately and couldn’t help but feel this was a fitting place for the citizens of Den City to make their final stand and temporary home. Playmaker could see thousands of white tents lined up in neat rows across the stronghold. Scattered among them were several brick-and-mortar buildings that served a variety of functions, such as medical centers, storage facilities, and soup kitchens. There were more of these structures in the process of being built, no doubt to accommodate for the sudden influx of new residents.

Atop the outer walls stood the Knights of Hanoi, long lines of men and women in white-hooded jackets and concealing masks. It would have been impossible to tell them all apart if not for the variety in their height and sizes. As Brave Max, Roboppi, and Playmaker approached, several of them gawked and pointed in their direction, talking excitedly as they gathered to stare at the long-lost legendary Duelist and Hero. Playmaker did his best not wince at their awed expressions. It reminded him all too well of the bizarrely separate mythos that had built up around both of his identities in this world. Fujiki Yusaku had become something approaching a martyred saint, while Playmaker seemed somewhere between hero and social pariah. The angry faces of the crowd from earlier flashed briefly through his mind once more, and it took all he had not to crawl under a rock to hide. He certainly didn’t want a repeat performance of that experience. He had no idea how he would handle it a second time.

He reflected back on his speech to the crowd and wondered once more if he had done the right thing in pretending to be _their_ Playmaker. It would have been impossible to explain to all of them why Playmaker had truly been absent from this world for two years. He had briefly entertained the idea of dropping the Playmaker guise and revealing the truth of his identity to the crowd then and there, but still felt it wise that he had not done so. Revealing himself as a Fujiki Yusaku from an alternate dimension would have likely made the situation worse – would have confused and betrayed everyone. Let them believe whatever they wanted. These people had been hurt enough, already.

Kusanagi had been right in those weeks before he and Yusaku had been forced to Duel one another by Lightning. His words weighed heavily on Playmaker’s heart even now. Playmaker had become a symbol of hope to the people of Den City, regardless of Yusaku’s original intentions for creating the avatar. And the people of _this _Den City needed that symbol now more than ever. Knowing this put a cold knot in Playmaker’s stomach. He could only hope he wouldn’t let everyone down. Not for the first time, he wished fervently that he could somehow make a call to Kusanagi. Kusanagi had always been able to see the bigger picture far better than Yusaku ever could and would have known how to advise him for this sort of thing. It was what made him an invaluable ally.

_And friend,_ Playmaker added, albeit timidly. He still felt incredibly shy about the idea of having friends. If his journey through this world was teaching him anything, it was that Fujiki Yusaku had meant a lot to far more people than he had ever realized. He’d honestly never given much thought to his place in the world as Fujiki Yusaku – had always assumed that, of the two identities, Playmaker would always play the more important role. He had always felt so disconnected from everyone around him in his personal life because of the Lost Incident. He would never have believed it was even possible for him to make friends, let alone be missed by anyone. He’d always felt invisible. Overlooked. Unseen. Part of him had preferred it that way for many years. No one could have ever understood the sort of pain and loneliness he had felt. Admittedly, he’d also never really given anyone a chance to try. Not until he’d met Kusanagi and had finally trusted someone enough to let them in.

He found himself intensely homesick. He desperately wished for Kusanagi’s calm and oft-bemused guidance. For Aoi’s warm smile. For Takeru’s gregarious and feisty nature. For Ryoken’s quiet serenity.

For Ai’s bright and playful grin, most of all.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hardly noticed when they landed in the heart of the stronghold. Roboppi tugged gently on his wrist, bringing him back to reality, and the tiny android pointed before them. Ahead was one of the brick structures, the door to which flew open with a loud bang and rattled on its hinges. Someone must have spotted the trio and alerted Revolver, for it was he who had thrown open the door with such force and stood in breathless astonishment at the sight of Playmaker before him. Soulburner and Blue Maiden appeared in the doorway seconds later.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Soulburner said with a wide grin, stepping past Revolver to grab Playmaker’s hand and shake it firmly. Blue Maiden took the other.

“I should have known,” she smirked.

“Are you alright??” Revolver blurted, coming forward into their midst.

As one, the four suddenly cast simultaneous looks at Brave Max, who seemed to take the hint. He straightened and gave Revolver a sharp salute.

“Sir! I apologize for leaving my post. I will return immediately!”

“No need, Brave Max,” Revolver told him. “Go Onizuka and Faust have reported in and are nearly here. Go take a break and get something to eat. You’ve more than earned it.”

Brave Max beamed under the praise.

“Thank you, sir! I will!!”

He hurried away, a little disappointed at being excluded from the coming conversation, but he supposed that Playmaker had a lot of catching up to do with the others. There would be time enough later to talk to him some more.

Revolver turned to usher them all inside when he finally caught sight of Roboppi. He drew back sharply, putting Soulburner and Blue Maiden on instant alert. Roboppi did not seem to understand their discomfort, tilting their head in confusion as the three suddenly reached for their Decks. Playmaker stepped between them, shielding Roboppi fully from view.

“Roboppi is on our side,” he said. “They helped me to escape Ai’s fortress. We can trust them.”

“That’s right!” Roboppi chirped, peeking around Playmaker’s hip. “Roboppi wishes to help Not-Master save Big Bro!”

“Save _who_?? You don’t mean _Ai_??” Soulburner shot back, but Revolver and Playmaker immediately shushed him.

“Not here,” Playmaker said.

“Inside,” Revolver commanded, pointing to the structure behind him.

Grumbling, Soulburner obediently moved inside, Blue Maiden and Playmaker following a few steps behind. The last to enter, Revolver locked the door behind him to prevent their conversation from being disturbed, and then took a seat at the head of the table. To his right sat Soulburner and Blue Maiden, Soulburner eyeing Roboppi warily across the table while Blue Maiden simply looked upon the tiny android with open hostility. Again, Roboppi did not seem to notice. They hopped eagerly into a chair beside Playmaker and began to swing their legs with all the exuberance of the small child they appeared to be. An awkward silence fell over the room, each side of the table trying to decide who should go first.

It was Soulburner who broke the tension.

“Please tell me you were joking out there,” he said, giving Playmaker a pleading look. “You don’t really intend to try to _save_ Ai, do you??”

“We need to destroy him,” Blue Maiden interjected. “He has to pay for what he’s done.”

“You’re not even going to _try_ to talk to him??” Playmaker replied.

“You think we haven’t tried?!” she snapped. “_Kusanagi _tried, and _Ai murdered him_!!”

It was all Playmaker could do not to flinch at those words. Blue Maiden’s eyes were like ice – hard, unrelenting, and cold – and the sharpness in her words threatened to cut him to ribbons.

“We are _well beyond_ the point of talking. Something as dangerous as Ai needs to be _eradicated_.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Playmaker retorted, his temper flaring. “Ai is not a _thing_! Ai is our _friend_ and he needs our _help_!”

“Playmaker, you don’t understand…,” Soulburner tried.

“I think I understand better than anyone in this room what Blue Maiden is after,” Playmaker snapped, his eyes never leaving hers. “But revenge isn’t a solution! _Yes_, Ai needs to answer for his crimes, but surely not with his life!!”

He stopped to look at the faces surrounding him one by one, assessing their reactions. Roboppi’s childish demeanor had dissolved in the face of Blue Maiden’s rage, and now they simply looked frightened. Playmaker could hardly blame them for that. Soulburner seemed concerned by Blue Maiden’s attitude, but also resigned to go along with her wishes. Blue Maiden was not even bothering to disguise her ire, glaring furiously at Playmaker. And at the head of the table, Revolver sat with his arms folded over his chest, expression as enigmatic as ever. Clearly, he intended to hear out both sides before casting his lots to one side or the other, although Playmaker held no illusions that he’d be able to convince any of them to see his point of view. He sighed in frustration.

“This is exactly the problem. Both you and Ai see one another as the bad guy in this situation. If you would just _listen_ to one another, then maybe – !!”

“Ai has _nothing_ to say that I want to hear!” Blue Maiden cut him off, banging her fist on the table. “_Can his words bring back my brother_?!”

“You’re not listening to –!”

“_He killed the Kusanagi brothers_!! Doesn’t that mean _anything _to you?!”

“_Would you please shut up?!”_ Playmaker snarled.

The silence that followed his words was so tense that everyone in the room was pulled taut by it. If looks could kill, Blue Maiden’s would have done the deed, dropping Playmaker where he sat. Playmaker broke gazes with her, letting out a slow breath and backing off of his temper.

“Of _course_, their deaths upset me,” he said quietly. “But as I said before, revenge is not a solution. It’s only something that prevents you from moving forward, and it’s exactly what’s been holding all of you and Ai back all this time.”

Blue Maiden opened her mouth, but Playmaker pressed on ahead, not giving her a chance.

“You all have no future – none except more pain and more hatred and more fighting. That’s not a life. I know that more than anyone. That’s why I want to help you – _all_ of you, including Ai.”

His gaze drifted away from her once more, getting lost in visions of something only he could see in the table.

“He’s in a lot of pain. He’s _suffering_, and if he can feel emotion like that, then he’s clearly more than just some _thing_. He a _living being_, and he deserves the right to live just as much as you and I do.”

Blue Maiden looked away sharply, a scowl darkening her face. Her jaw flexed visibly as she clenched her teeth, biting down on the deeply sarcastic response she would never voice.

“Playmaker,” Revolver finally spoke up, drawing all eyes to him. His concerned frown gave Playmaker clear indications of which side of the table he’d landed on. “Am I correct in presuming that you are asking us to essentially give a _mass_ _murderer_ a second chance because you think he’s _lonely_ and _you feel sorry for him_?!”

Another tense silence followed. Soulburner’s stomach churned with anxiety as he stared hard at Playmaker’s lowered head, waiting for his response. Playmaker’s expression was totally obscured by the wild tuft of yellow bangs falling across his forehead, and his hands balled into fists on the table before him. They began to tremble slightly, but it wasn’t until he lifted his head again that Soulburner realized that the trembling came not from anger or fear, but from a place of deep compassion. He looked so lost and forlorn that Soulburner’s heart ached in sympathy. He wanted to reach out and offer some comfort, but Playmaker was speaking before he could move.

“It’s not right.”

He sounded more helpless than anyone in the room had ever heard him before. Revolver seemed to back up on his proverbial heels. Even Blue Maiden looked surprised by this display from the normally stoic young man. Playmaker looked over at Roboppi, suddenly, who stared up at him with wide, confused golden eyes.

“They aren’t just machines,” he said. “They have _feelings_. Roboppi understood why I wanted to go home when I explained it to them…why can’t the same hold true for Ai?? Why _shouldn’t_ I feel sorry for him, when it’s obvious to me how much pain he’s in? How much pain…_everyone_ is in??”

He clasped his hands tightly together in an unconscious plea, pressing his forehead to them and squeezing his eyes shut in distress.

“Is killing him _really _going to make you all feel better?! Is that _really_ what it takes?!”

None of them knew how to reply. Only Roboppi dared to move, placing a comforting hand on his arm. The longest silence followed, with Soulburner, Blue Maiden, and Revolver all casting guilty looks at one another. What could they say that would help? Could they all be wrong in their feelings? Playmaker’s obvious distress troubled them all more than they cared to admit, but it felt wrong, as well, to completely dismiss the grief and the pain they’d all gone through in the last two years. The war had changed them – but for better or worse? They were no longer certain.

For his own part, Playmaker also did not know how to answer his own question. He didn’t want to believe it was true. Was this really his fate in life? That no matter where he might go, he would always be doomed to destroy Ai? What did that mean for his search? Even if he found Ai, would he only be forced to destroy him again and again in a never-ending cycle??

He lowered his hands finally, and the others were all quite shocked to find his brilliant green eyes rimmed with tears.

“It’s not right what he’s done,” he said in a very husky voice, “and he _should _answer for it. But I don’t want him to die. Not because of me.”

As soon as he spoke the words, he realized how true they really were, and finally understood why he’d started his search for Ai in the first place. All he wanted was to right the terrible wrong he felt had been done. Ai had said his actions had been to prevent this very scenario from coming true – had been to prevent Yusaku’s death and the suffering of millions. But the cost felt too high to Yusaku. It wasn’t fair. He had tried to understand Ai’s feelings in the days that had followed their Duel; had tried so hard to forgive him, but Playmaker realized now with terrible certainty that he could not. He could not forgive Ai for taking the choice out of his hands – for not allowing Yusaku to save him. Playmaker still wanted to believe that coexistence between humans and Ignis was possible, even now in the face of the future his Ai had fought and died to escape.

It wasn’t fair. And for Ai to have said what he did only seconds before disappearing…?

_“…I loved you…”_

Playmaker’s face felt hot. He angrily brushed the thoughts and tears away. Neither would help him in this moment. He had to stay focused on the task before him. No matter what the other three decided, he would do what he must to save the Ai of this dimension, and then, he would return to his own dimension and rescue _his_ Ai, somehow. He had to believe Ai was still out there, waiting for him. He just couldn’t accept that it wasn’t true. He had too much he needed to say to Ai when he found him...

The others had found their voices by this time, and they all were trying to speak at once.

“Playmaker, _no _—!”

“This isn’t your fault, it’s just —!”

“This is why I didn’t want you getting involved in this mess in the –!”

Playmaker shook his head, silencing them.

“You’re missing the point…” he began, but Revolver rose from his chair, scowling.

“You act as if this is a simple act of ‘forgive and forget’,” the Hanoi Leader said, a tone of finality in his voice, “but it’s not. Do you _really _expect us to give him a second chance after _all _he has done to this city?!”

“We gave _you_ one,” Playmaker replied evenly, “or did you forget about the Tower of Hanoi?”

Revolver gaped, hardly knowing how to reply to that. As he fumbled for words, Playmaker drove the point home.

“You nearly wiped out all of Link VRAINS by absorbing the consciousness data of thousands of people. You didn’t care who you hurt, so long as you could achieve your objective. You rendered thousands of people effectively brain dead for a period of time. Had I lost our Duel and the Tower been completed, would that have not also made _you _a mass murderer? So why do _you_ get a second chance, but _Ai _doesn’t?”

Revolver remained silent, very deeply troubled by the fact that he could not refute any of that. Playmaker only sighed wearily, quite done with this conversation. He no longer cared if he had their support or not. It seemed that, once more, he would have to bring about peace on his own. He should be used to it by now, he thought ruefully.

His weariness disappeared the instant his Link Sense twanged painfully through his body, causing him to jolt upright in his chair. He whirled for the door, catching a glimpse of blue and purple data particles flitting past the windows mere seconds before the wind outside suddenly rose to an unnatural roar, whipping around the building in a frenzy and threatening to take the glass from their panes.

“_Oh, no_!!” he heard Roboppi gasp, and knew with immediate certainty what it was that his Link Sense had been trying to warn him about.

Ai had come.

He rushed out the door ahead of the others. Civilians raced for cover or did their best to secure the tents and supplies scattering about the camp. He lifted an arm, peering into the wind. Atop the wall, Knights were ducking low, trying their best to stay on their feet.

The wind clawed at his hair and tore at his limbs, a small gust of it swirling around behind him to shove him forward a few staggering steps. He understood without a doubt, then, that he was being directly challenged. He dropped his arm and summoned his D-Board.

“_Playmaker, no_!!” he heard Soulburner shout.

He shot into the air, negotiating the buffeting winds as carefully as he could. They seemed to gather beneath him and propel him faster towards the wall, and he could not help but feel that this was all part of Ai’s plan. He did not fight it. He knew that he would get beyond the wall safely because Ai wanted to face him.

When he reached the top of the wall, he was immediately stunned by the scores of SOLdiers marching steadily towards the human stronghold. Ahead of them raced the last human survivors, screaming as they ran. Playmaker forced his gaze past them. He knew that Ai had no interest in them; his target was Playmaker. He soon spotted the dark figure flying on a D-Board at the center of the army, leading the datastorm with arms outstretched as the winds lashed his cape about his form like the wingbeats of a bird of prey.

He sensed rather than saw Ai notice him. The android’s arms dropped, and as they did so, the SOLdiers came to a stop with one, terrific stomp. All at once, the winds began to swirl beneath Ai, quickly forming up into a vortex of epic proportions. Playmaker watched it carefully weave through the legions of SOLdiers until it came to a stop somewhere in the middle of the battlefield. He could no longer see Ai, but he had no doubts as to where the android had gone. He was waiting for Playmaker to join him within the datastorm.

He turned for one last look at the human stronghold. The last of the refugees had made it inside the complex, and the gates were closing firmly against the impending threat. Playmaker gave a sharp nod in satisfaction. The humans were safe for now. That they would remain that way was up to him, he knew. He made a quick circuit with his D-Board and headed straight for the datastorm, his pulse quickening as a familiar call echoed in his head, urging him on.

_Seize the wind, Playmaker!_


	12. In The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we break all the rules of Dueling because we can.

_“We are not interested in the possibility of defeat. Not within the silence of a deserted alley, nor the clamor of a crowded street. F.E.A.R. cannot be vanquished; we cannot be destroyed. F.E.A.R. will rise up again and control the masses, take back the power, and crush the insurgent horde. _

_“As war fades into the distant memories of enlightened pigs and open wounds, the rebels will begin to perish. One by one, they should feel the fear of dying young…not ignore the chance to scream…lie awake at night in terror, admitting F.E.A.R. will return to glory._

_“And the story of rebels who set out to conquer will finish in blood…”_

_-**F.E.A.R. Transmission #3: As War Fades**, Black Veil Brides_

_“In the end  
As you fade into the night  
Who will tell the story of your life?  
And who will remember your last goodbye?  
'Cause it's the end and I'm not afraid  
I'm not afraid to die”_

_-**In The End**, Black Veil Brides_

The winds buffeted against him as Playmaker sailed into the heart of the datastorm. He was not concerned about his safety, however. He knew he would arrive at the calm center of the storm unscathed. Ai _wanted_ him here; wanted to face him. He would allow Playmaker safe passage through the datastorm, if only so that he could finish off Playmaker himself.

“Welcome, Playmaker~!” he heard Ai cackle the moment he emerged into the eye of the storm. “So nice to see you again~!!”

He looked up to find Ai floating on his D-Board high above him, cape and hair tossing about lazily in the wind and a wicked edge to his smile.

“It’s a shame we couldn’t have met under better circumstances,” he went on. “I think we could have gotten along swimmingly. But now, I’m afraid I have to kill you.”

“Ai,” Playmaker called back cautiously. “I don’t want to fight you. Please. I just want to talk to you.”

But Ai was clearly not listening. He pulled a card from his Deck, a deranged grin splitting his face from ear to ear as he looked at it. He brought the card up over his head, releasing it, and it began to spin wildly as it hovered.

“Do you want to see a fun trick, Playmaker~? It’s one I made myself~! Even the great and powerful Revolver can’t do it~!!”

He snapped his fingers, and the card above his head broke apart into a fine mist of data particles that scattered and multiplied until they covered Ai’s entire frame. Playmaker watched in growing trepidation as Ai’s D-Board vanished and the mist reformed and hardened into plates of dark purple armor along Ai’s arms and legs. Large spikes protruded from his shoulders and knees. A chest plate closed across his torso, and, as a large sword materialized in his right hand, Playmaker soon recognized the armor as belonging to Dark Templar.

He straightened in surprise. Ai only cackled once more and spun the sword in his hand with casual ease before resting it against his shoulder.

“Are you really that surprised~? In this world, I control _everything! _And that means I can merge with my monster, gain its abilities, and wipe out _anyone_ who opposes me~!”

He readied himself, crouching a bit and grasping the sword hilt in both hands. His eyes narrowed almost playfully as he smiled voraciously at Playmaker.

“Hold still,” he purred. “This will only hurt _a lot~!_”

Playmaker had only an instant to react as Ai darted forward, launching himself in midair and slashing at Playmaker in an impossibly fast move for a sword that size. Fortunately, Playmaker’s reflexes were faster, still. He dropped to a squat on his board, ducking the first horizontal slice. He grabbed his D-Board in the same motion, and, as the second vertical slash came down, he leaned backwards as hard as he could, dodging it. Playmaker continued his motion, smoothly flipping over before shooting out towards the middle of the storm where he’d have more room to maneuver.

His mind was whirling. How had Ai merged with his monster?! And how could Playmaker possibly hope to defend himself from a sword of that size?! His suit provided _some_ measure of protection, but not enough to block a blade. The answer had to lie somewhere in his Deck. As he reached for his cards, however, Ai suddenly appeared before him, a wild gleam in his golden eyes.

“_How long do you think you can run?!_”

He slashed at Playmaker’s throat with his sword. Playmaker desperately fell to his knees. He felt the sword swish just inches above his head as he converted his downward motion into a wild nosedive, pressing close to his D-Board as he poured on speed. Ai only laughed, easily pivoting in the air to follow. He had the distinct advantage in maneuverability since he no longer relied on his D-Board to fly, Playmaker noted with some dismay, but hopefully Playmaker still held the advantage with speed. He brought himself to a halt by leveling out his D-Board, then quickly glanced up to see Ai making a beeline for him and immediately shot off towards the edge of the datastorm. He was soon following the natural spiral up towards the heavens and reached for his Deck once more.

He knew Ai would have no difficulty course-correcting to give chase, but Playmaker had put enough distance between them to finally draw a card. His eyes widened a bit as Decode Talker appeared in his hand, and then the familiar twinge of his Link Sense pinged throughout his body. He winced. A strange sensation not unlike a heartbeat suddenly began to keep time within his chest. It forced the pounding of his own heart to gradually slow to match it, and then an eerie sort of calm filled him.

He would never be able to explain it – not even to himself – but, somehow, he knew without a doubt that Decode Talker had _wanted_ to be drawn. Ai had once been its friend, and Playmaker somehow knew that Decode Talker wanted to save Ai just as much as he did.

It made absolutely no logical sense how Playmaker just _knew _this, but he did not question it. He understood somehow that the second heart beating within his chest was the power of Cyberse. He’d felt it before, when he’d first faced Revolver for the virus removal program and Revolver had tried to make Playmaker believe all of his Cyberse monsters were gone. He had been wrong to believe that he’d have to face Ai alone. Revolver and the others may not have been convinced of his point of view, but his monsters were with him. All of the power of Cyberse was behind him this time.

He let his eyes fall shut as he leaned into that sensation. He might have once argued that playing cards could not possibly have sentience — were only data and therefore incapable of feelings. But if he really believed that _Ai _was not just an artificially intelligent program, but an actual _living being_, was it so much of a stretch to believe the same about the monsters in his Deck? He opened his eyes and smiled grimly down at the card in his hand. He would give Decode Talker its chance to face Ai. But to do that, he needed more help.

He moved Decode Talker to his left hand and drew from his Deck once more.

“_I summon Bitron!_”

The tiny white creature appeared before him in a shower of sparkles, chirping its name eagerly and easily keeping pace at his side. Playmaker then threw a hand out before him.

“_Appear! The circuit that leads to the future!_” he cried.

No sooner had the words passed his lips than an explosion of energy unlike anything he had ever felt before rocketed from somewhere deep inside of his chest and down the length of his arm. A bolt of lightning arched from his fingertips into the air before him, just as it always did, but it _felt_ incredibly different — not a mere programmed function of the game but more like some ancient and powerful force using him as some sort of conduit. The sensation left him a bit shaken and breathless in awe. Was this the true power of Link Summoning that only this dimension could show him?

The Link Gate appeared only moments later. Trailing behind Playmaker, Ai snarled and picked up speed, knowing all the while that he had been too careless and would not catch up in enough time to stop the summon. He swung the Dark Templar sword anyway as he closed in, but Playmaker winked out of existence long before the blade could reach him. Ai pulled up short and began scanning the area, but even his superhuman sensors could not track Playmaker’s position as he traveled in the liminal space between Link Gates. Playmaker almost seemed to be traveling at the speed of light. Ai couldn’t even calculate where he might reappear, the attempts erroring out his sensors. He stayed where he was and continued scanning for even the slightest glimpse of the second Link Gate.

Playmaker, meanwhile, found himself hurtling along a tunnel that veritably sparkled in multicolored light. There was a vague sense of familiarity about it, but he couldn’t quite place it. The air itself was filled with so much energy that it shivered against his skin, and he could not suppress a brief shiver of his own in response. Instinctively, he gestured, and a Link Marker appeared in the tunnel just a few feet ahead of him, hovering there as he raced along.

“_Arrowheads confirmed!” _he said, and his voice reverberated back at him so many times that it became like a church choir echoing his chant._ “The conditions are at least one Normal Monster. I set Bitron into one of the Link Markers!”_

With another eager chirp, the small monster sailed away ahead of him, converting into light seconds before disappearing into an arrowhead. The center of the Link Marker flared to life, the conditions met and accepted. The Link Marker came to a stop, and as Playmaker dodged past it, Link Spider emerged from the other side, flexing its sleek black metal legs an instant before falling in step beside him. The summon complete, another Link Gate appeared, and they reappeared in reality somewhere far across the datastorm from Ai.

“_You think that puny insect can hurt me?!”_ Ai scoffed, and he gave chase immediately. Playmaker was far from done, however.

“_Due to Link Spider’s effect, Bitron returns to the field! I also summon Linkslayer!”_

No sooner had he spoken the words than the two monsters appeared on either side of him. To his left, Linkslayer’s cape snapped in the wind while Bitron twirled and bounced along happily at his right. Ai snarled in frustration as Playmaker called back the Link Gate.

“_No more of your tricks!_” he shouted. “_Face me like a man, you coward!!_”

He knew better than anyone that Playmaker would ignore his attempts to goad him into a confrontation, but it was worth a shot. He screeched to another halt as Playmaker vanished into the Link Gate and swore roundly as he renewed his search. Just as before, his wait was quite short, the Link Gate opening somewhere below him. Ai did not hesitate, diving headlong towards Playmaker. He hardly cared that Bitron and Linkslayer had been replaced by Honeybot. His only concern was for ending Playmaker’s life.

If Playmaker had any concerns at this time in the fight, it was not for Ai. Decode Talker’s card seemed to pulsate excitedly in his hands. Playmaker himself felt a bit dizzy with a foreign sort of euphoria. The second Link Summon had left him feeling almost giddy, and his heart was pounding wildly in anticipation of the third. He pointed out before him one more time.

_“Appear! The circuit that leads to the future!!”_

And appear, it did, with a powerful _snap_. Playmaker plunged into the tunnel once more. The Link Marker appeared almost immediately, and Playmaker set Honeybot and Link Spider into the arrowheads. Decode Talker broke through the Marker with such force that Playmaker’s knees almost buckled in exhilaration. He smiled in grim satisfaction at the monster, and he felt rather than saw the monster do the same. They were ready. It was time to face Ai.

But the exit Gate was not appearing.

Playmaker felt a jolt of alarm as he realized this. A moment later, however, Decode Talker swooped down before him and its entire form lost all substance until it was no more than a wire frame. Playmaker remained rigid in shock until the monster’s arms, legs, head and chest all detached from each other and drifted back to align with the corresponding part of Playmaker’s body. His heart leaped into his throat as he understood that Decode Talker did not simply want to join the fight at his side. Decode Talker wanted to fight with him as one.

An eager grin broke across Playmaker’s face – entirely uncharacteristic for him, but he would blame it on the lightheaded frenzy that was overtaking him. He straightened and spread his arms out wide. The wire frame limbs suddenly changed into orbs of light which pressed close against him. The touch was not unpleasant. It was warm and reminiscent of the reassuring grip of a friend. His mind flashed through all of the times Kusanagi had dropped an encouraging hand on his shoulder while they worked and how oddly comforting he’d come to find even that simple gesture. He found the same sort of comfort from Decode Talker, now, and was grateful for it.

From the points where they’d made contact, the light transformed into a sleeker, more streamlined version of Decode Talker’s blue armor. Pauldrons formed across his slender shoulders, trimming themselves in gold that raced back to form the broad, powerful wings. Across his forearms, a pair of gauntlets formed, the left one molding into perfect alignment around his Duel Disk. Greaves closed over his shins and thighs. A breastplate and back plate formed comfortably to his body. And finally, Decode Talker’s trademark helmet had changed into a circlet which came to rest lightly on Playmaker’s brow.

Playmaker was astonished by how light and comfortable the armor fit. He flexed his hands and wrists experimentally, and found he could move normally, almost as if the armor wasn’t even there. He balled his hands into fists and set his gaze determinedly ahead of him. _Now_, they were ready. Decode Talker seemed to agree, for the Link Gate finally appeared before them. Playmaker’s D-Board disappeared as he launched himself into it.

He winked back into existence almost directly behind Ai, who spun instantly and brought Dark Templar’s sword up to bear. His eyes narrowed as he took in Playmaker’s new appearance.

“No one likes a copycat, you know,” he growled.

“Ai, please,” Playmaker tried once again. “We don’t have to do this. We can just talk.”

_“I only have one thing to say to you!”_

Ai rushed Playmaker, who had Decode Talker’s sword in his hand in an instant and used it to block the initial strike. He parried the blows that followed, gaining ground quickly to Ai’s complete surprise. Playmaker had never wielded a sword in his entire life, but Decode Talker was guiding his movements with practiced ease. Playmaker trusted in his monster’s instincts – leaned into its skills. They moved in perfect synchronicity, connected as one through mind, body, and heart.

Ai soon broke free from the exchange, hands almost strangling his sword hilt as his face twisted almost unrecognizably in rage.

“_How dare you come here! Why couldn’t you have just stayed out of it?!”_

“Ai…”

“_I had everything under control until you showed up and ruined everything!! **Why do you always ruin everything?!**_”

He zipped back in, raining a flurry of blows onto Playmaker that were all easily turned away.

“_You should have stayed out of it, Yusaku!!”_ Ai was screaming now. “_If you had just stayed out of it, none of this would be happening now!!_”

Playmaker understood that those words were not truly meant for him, but for the other Fujiki Yusaku, and his heart ached. If only he could reach Ai, somehow. But Ai suddenly put the full extent of his superhuman strength behind his blows, and Playmaker struggled to parry them. He knew that he could not wait for Ai to tire out — his SOLtis body never would. Playmaker would have to go on the offensive if he wanted to win this fight.

He waited until Ai launched a particularly heavy swing and fell back, causing Ai to stumble off balance. He swooped in behind the swing and began to press hard with a series of attacks. Ai snarled defiantly and, soon, the ring of clashing swords filled the air, nearly drowning out the roar of the datastorm. He drove Ai hard, forcing him all the way across their makeshift arena and back, pouring all of his own grief and rage into the attacks and feeling Decode Talker’s and Dark Templar’s powers growing stronger with each passing second. At times, they would break away from each other, flying out far and wide before crashing back in to exchange blows once more.

Playmaker and Ai soon became blurs of energy and motion, no more than streaks of light arcing and bouncing as they clashed. Neither had the presence of mind to note the growing instability of the datastorm around them. They were too focused on each other, too stubborn to recognize they were evenly matched, and Ai was thoroughly unable to concentrate on maintaining the storm as a result. The spiral swayed and stuttered, surging whenever their swords met and ebbing every time they broke apart.

A guttural scream rose up from somewhere deep inside of Playmaker. It was a pure, primal thing that started in his belly and worked its way up and out of his throat. It held all the notes of his anger and grief; expressed the full extent of his pain and his fears. It rivaled the roar of even the strongest datastorm, and he channeled all of it into one last swing. Ai let out a cry of his own in challenge and brought his sword around to meet Playmaker’s, but neither could rival the power surging through Playmaker. He released all of the energy he’d been gathering since their fight began just as the swords clanged together. Unbeknownst to him, Ai had the same plan.

The air around them _snapped_ like a bullwhip. Swords shattered in their hands and they were both sent flying in equal and opposite directions, armor completely dissolving, Dark Templar’s and Decode Talker’s powers completely spent. Ai’s hold over the datastorm finally crumbled completely and the winds surrounding them vanished. Playmaker had just enough awareness left to summon his D-Board and catch himself. He struggled to rise on shaking limbs and found with a quick glance that Ai was likewise having the same trouble. They eyed one another warily in silence, each panting heavily. Playmaker knew that he had no strength to continue the fight, but Ai, with his tireless android body, could easily renew the battle.

The sound of a gun hammer being drawn back drew their attention to the sudden appearance of Revolver. He stood on his D-Board close to Ai, a large gun in his hands. It had a long coil of thin, silvery wire on one side that attached to something tucked inside the barrel. Ai glared defiantly as Revolver took careful aim.

“_Don’t. Move._ Unless you _want _a taste of this EMP gun.”

“_Revolver—!”_ Playmaker gasped between breaths.

He couldn’t let Revolver fire that gun. He had no doubts that it had been built to give off a powerful electromagnetic pulse, and given that Ai was literally a walking computer, it would surely scramble his entire hard drive or, worse, erase his programming completely. Revolver cast a glance over at Playmaker, face completely expressionless.

“Thank you very much for your assistance, Playmaker, but I will take it from—!”

Whatever else he had planned to say was choked off in a strangled gasp as Ai’s fingers suddenly closed around his throat. The android had not moved, but the reach of his extendable arms was quite long. Playmaker stood frozen as Revolver dropped the EMP gun. His hands flew up to scrape uselessly at Ai’s steely fingers.

“Your last-minute rescues aren’t as cute as you seem to think they are, Revolver,” Ai growled._ “_You’re just _annoying_.”

He reeled Revolver in, yanking him completely free from his D-Board with frightening suddenness. When the man reached him, he tore the slender Duel Disk from his wrist without ceremony. Revolver’s eyes bulged and he flailed desperately for the item, but there was very little he could do but watch as Ai crushed it in one hand as if it was no more than paper. Revolver’s D-Board dissolved instantly in an explosion of data particles. His trademark ensemble followed very shortly. Just like that, Revolver, Leader of the Knights of Hanoi and defender of the human race was gone.

It was Kogami Ryoken who now dangled 1000 feet helplessly in the air, suspended by the throat. He wore only the flimsy uniform of the regular army that followed him. He didn’t even have a weapon to use to defend himself, now. He kicked his legs uselessly as he struggled against Ai’s chokehold. Ai’s expression was cold and detached as he looked down at the man.

“So…this is how it ends, eh?” he said in a voice that was entirely too calm. “Did you ever think it would turn out this way, my old adversary? All those years you tried to kill me, and, in the end, I proved to be the superior species.”

Ryoken kicked out with one leg, trying to alleviate some of the pressure against his trachea.

“_...cockroach!_” he spat.

He let out a choked gasp as Ai’s grip tightened. A steely smile broke across Ai’s face.

“Yes, I _am _a cockroach – able to survive even the most inhospitable conditions of this world. But you…?”

He squeezed tighter. Ryoken could not utter a sound. His eyes were beginning to roll back in his head as his body fell slack.

“You and your race are nothing more than _ants. _And I’m about to wipe out the whole colony.”

“Ai, _no!!_” The cry was suddenly torn from Playmaker. He inched his D-Board as close as he dared, holding his hands out towards the scene. “Please; you're _hurting_ him!! Let him _go_!!”

He realized what a poor choice of words that was only seconds before Ai turned his head with eerie slowness towards Playmaker and a decidedly deranged glint sparkled in his too-wide eyes.

“...okay~!”

He let go.

Ryoken’s limp body plummeted like a stone.

“_NO!!_” Playmaker screamed.

He tried to dive after the man, but Ai moved at the same time, firing off his right hand and catching Playmaker around the throat. He followed behind it, tackling Playmaker and knocking them both free of their D-Boards to follow Ryoken to the ground.

Playmaker grappled wildly with Ai, frantically clawing at the hand locked around his throat. Ryoken could not summon a D-Board to save himself without his Duel Disk; Playmaker had to help him! But Ai’s grip was iron, and Playmaker knew he would never get free in enough time. He nearly gave into despair until he caught a glint out of the corner of his eye and saw Roboppi shooting across the sky at breakneck speed. He had only seconds to appreciate the sight of the tiny android snatching Ryoken out of the air before the ground suddenly slammed into his back.

He was so stunned by the sudden expulsion of oxygen from his lungs that he was quite certain his heart had totally stopped. He could see nothing but stars and feel nothing but a terrifying numbness throughout his whole frame. All at once, the realization that he still could not breathe came screaming in, giving him a jolt of adrenaline. He struggled and kicked as hard as he could until Ai’s hand finally loosened and he was able to draw a painful, shuddering gasp into his oxygen deprived lungs.

When his vision cleared, he found himself prone on his back with Ai straddling his waist. The force of their impact had been so great that they had formed a sizable crater in the ground and dust was still billowing through the air, trying to find somewhere to settle downwind. Another jolt of panic gripped him as he realized the Playmaker suit had been completely shattered by the fall and he was Fujiki Yusaku, once again – completely and utterly human and no match for a deranged, super-powered android. He struggled anyway, tugging at Ai’s arm, but soon gave up, knowing his efforts were useless.

“_Ai_,” he croaked.

Ai was deathly silent. His golden eyes stared down at Yusaku without really seeing him. It was like he was in some kind of trance.

“_Ai, please…!_”

If Ai could even hear him now, he didn’t show it. Instead, Yusaku could only watch helplessly as Ai slowly reached inside his military jacket and withdrew a long knife. Yusaku’s eyes widened and he struggled once more against Ai’s inhuman weight. Please; it couldn’t end like this! It just couldn’t!

“_Stop,_” Yusaku pleaded.

But Ai did not stop. He lifted the knife high above Yusaku’s chest, and then swiftly plunged it down.

“_Don’t!_”

Yusaku could not watch. He shut his eyes tightly, twisting away as much as he could, but he knew it would not be enough. Fujiki Yusaku would die twice in this dimension.

There was a dull thud, and then a silence so intense that Yusaku wondered if he had died so quickly that he hadn’t even realized it. Something warm and wet hit his face. _Rain? _The grip on his throat slackened completely and he opened his eyes.

Ai had sunk the knife harmlessly into the soft earth only inches from his head. The android sat hunched over him, whole body quivering as tears rolled unchecked down his face. A few more hit Yusaku’s cheek and he blinked rapidly, completely at a loss for how to react.

“_Why??”_ Ai sobbed. “I _hate_ you. So why can’t I kill you??”

Yusaku only stared up at him in total disbelief. Ai _couldn’t_ kill him?

No, he decided. Ai didn’t _want_ to kill him.

“I’m so sorry,” the android was saying. “I’m so sorry, Yusaku…”

Yusaku’s heart broke at the sight of Ai so pathetic and miserable. He reached up to touch Ai’s face when a gunshot went off and a peculiar, metallic sizzle filled his nostrils. The android’s eyes suddenly bulged, and he lurched, back arching grotesquely as his mouth formed a scream he couldn’t voice. Electrical charges crackled violently over the android’s body and he shuddered and convulsed wildly.

“_Ai!!_” Yusaku cried, forcing himself upright as Ai fell back from him.

The lighting stopped a moment later, and smoke wafted up from Ai’s back and out of his mouth. His eyes locked with Yusaku’s, and they were filled with a deep and terrible pain. 

“_Yusa…ku…_” he croaked in a digitally distorted voice before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Yusaku threw out his arms desperately, catching Ai as he slumped forward into his lap. He saw three large electrodes had burned clear through Ai’s cape and military jacket and had even charred the synthetic skin below. Wires fed back from these electrodes into a long, silvery cable that led all the way to the modified rifle Go Onizuka held in his hands. Faust stood beside him, holding an identical weapon. They looked similar to the EMP gun Revolver had been holding earlier. Both men looked grim.

“Huh…one shot didn’t kill him?” Go asked in a bored tone. “That’s kind of impressive.”

“I’ll finish it,” Faust replied, taking aim at the helpless android.

“_No!!”_ Yusaku cried, throwing his arms across Ai’s back to shield him from any further attacks. “_Please, stop! Don’t hurt him!!”_

“Faust, stand down!” came Ryoken’s commanding voice from somewhere behind Yusaku. He turned to see the white-haired man walking up, Roboppi skipping along cheerfully behind him.

“He’s still alive, though,” Go protested as Faust lowered his weapon.

“And he will remain that way,” Ryoken replied evenly.

He produced a sleek black collar from a pocket in his uniform and knelt beside Yusaku.

“I developed this device myself,” he explained to Yusaku’s inquisitive expression as he carefully reached over to fasten the device around Ai’s neck. “It’s designed to jam all of his major frequencies and prevent him from remotely accessing other systems. It will limit _some_ of his powers, but it doesn’t interfere with most his internal processes.”

Yusaku balled his hands into Ai’s cape and stared at Ryoken in open challenge as the collar beeped and a green light came on at the front of it. Ryoken looked a bit uncomfortable under that gaze but only detached the electrodes from Ai’s back.

“It will hold him until we decide what to do with him.” He turned to Faust and Go. “Please take him into custody.”

The two men moved in at once, and although Yusaku tightened his grip on Ai and tried to resist them, he was outnumbered three to one.

“_No!_” he protested, almost hysterical as Ryoken finally pried open his left hand and held him still. Go and Faust dragged Ai away towards the camp. “_Please, no! Ai!!”_

“It’s alright, Fujiki,” Ryoken said quietly. “It’s over, now. It’s all over, now.”


	13. Final Transmission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some very heavy things are sorted out for better or worse.

_“This is to be our final transmission. The rebels have defeated our illustrious armies. _

_“They have damaged our intention with an ugly and defiant malevolence. All that we love and care for will sink into the abyss of a new dark age, made more sinister and, perhaps, more protracted by the light of perverted science and rebellion. The whole root and heavy core will perish and starve captivity._

_“You will never win your freedom. _

_“You cannot escape F.E.A.R.”_

_-**F.E.A.R. Final Transmission**, Black Veil Brides_

“_Please_, you have to stay still so I can examine—!” the medic pleaded but Yusaku wasn’t listening to her.

For the third time since he’d been brought to the exam room, he hopped from the table and made a beeline for the door. And for the fourth time, the medic and her assistants caught him before he could get there, the medic offering pleas while the assistants just wordlessly blocked his path. A third, particularly strong assistant put one hand at either side of Yusaku’s waist and hoisted him off the floor, plunking him back onto the exam table as if he weighed nothing. He matched Yusaku’s glare, not the least bit intimidated by the teen’s furious green eyes.

“Mr. Fujiki, _please_,” the medic begged once again, and once more approached him with her flashlight. “_Please_, just let me do my tests! You took a very bad fall and we want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“I told you — I’m _fine_,” he retorted, dodging her hands as she attempted to shine the flashlight into one of his eyes. “Where is Ai?? I want to see him.”

“And you will – _after_ I finish my exam!”

Yusaku turned his glare upon her this time, but she only took the opportunity to grab his head firmly and examine his eyes thoroughly with her light.

“Are you feeling dizzy? Experiencing any headaches or nausea?”

“_No. _Look, I told you, I’m _fine_. I just want to see Ai. I want to make sure he’s okay!”

“And _I_ just want to make sure that _you’re_ okay!”

_“Then why won’t you just believe me when I say that I am fine?!” _Yusaku finally snapped, twisting violently out of her grasp. He almost toppled from the table and, out of reflex, the two nearest assistants reached out to catch him by the arms and steady him, but the gesture only triggered an old, instinctive fear inside of him.

They weren’t letting him leave.

“_No!” _he heard himself cry. He recoiled from their touch as if he’d been burned. “_Don’t touch me!”_

“Alright, okay. I think that’s _quite_ enough of that,” said Baira from where she leaned against the doorframe. Yusaku had no idea when she’d arrived or how long she’d stood there watching the scene unfold, but she had an instantly calming effect on the room the moment she stepped inside. She offered him a quick smile in greeting, then looked to the medic. “I think I should take over from here.”

“Chief, I’m so sorry…” she began, but Baira was already waving her hand to dismiss the apology before it had even fully left the young woman’s mouth.

“Don’t worry about it. You all were simply doing your jobs, and I think Mr. Fujiki knows that, don’t you?”

His heart was still pounding furiously in his chest, but Yusaku nodded, suddenly feeling quite sheepish. He did know. These people were not trying to hurt him. He suddenly felt deeply ashamed at his overly-emotional outburst – it was so out of character for him. He felt vaguely oversaturated with…_everything_ as he sat there, and he tried to lower his skyrocketing pulse.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said after collecting himself a bit more. “I didn’t mean to get so upset.”

“It’s alright,” said the medic.

“You’ve been through a lot,” the overly strong assistant told him. “It’s hardly surprising.”

They offered him a few more words of encouragement before they took their leave. Baira took the chart from the medic as she passed and waited until they were out of the room before she grabbed a stool and pulled it into position in front of Yusaku. It put her at a slightly shorter level than him.

“They are right, you know,” she said gently. She tilted her head and offered a small smile. “You _have _been through a lot since you got here. And that was a pretty big fall you took, even if you were protected by your VRAINS avatar.”

“I’m _fine_. Where is Ai? Is he okay??”

She shrugged as she read over the partially completed chart.

“About as okay as he can be, I would guess. I’m not really a robot doctor, you know; people are more my specialty. But he was conscious, at least, when Revolver sent me to check in on you. They’re keeping him in the quiet wing.”

Yusaku felt some measure of relief at that news. He was about to press for more details when Baira suddenly straightened, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers together on the front of her knee. She locked eyes with him in such an intense way that he found he couldn’t look away.

“How are you feeling right now? Are you okay?”

“I’m—”

He was taken completely aback when his vision suddenly blurred with tears. He suddenly didn’t know how he felt. For the first time, he realized he was shaking and looked down at his hands in confusion. Why was he shaking? He didn’t feel cold. He balled his hands into fists and shook his head to clear it of the strange buzzing sensation that had fallen over him.

“Sorry, I’m—” he tried again.

It was useless. The words just wouldn’t come. Baira seemed to sense this and reached over to place a hand over one of his, drawing his gaze back to hers.

“It’s alright. You’re overwhelmed. You walked into a war zone, and you’ve been going nonstop since you arrived in this world.”

She paused for thought, looking him over carefully.

“Maybe longer…”

She had no idea how right she was, and try as he might, Yusaku wasn’t able to stifle the tears that escaped him now. He wished he would stop shaking. He pulled his hand free from hers and angrily scrubbed at his eyes. He did not like showing this much vulnerability in front of anyone. Baira just smiled softly at him before rising from her stool and putting her stethoscope into her ears.

“Okay if I take some of your vitals?” she asked as she reached for a blood pressure cuff.

Still unable to speak, he only nodded and offered her his arm. She did not ask him any questions as she performed her checks with routine easy, and he was grateful for the prolonged silence. It allowed him time to get himself back under control. By the time she had finished, his shaking had stopped. She grinned at him, propping a hand on her hip.

“Well…you seem fine to me. No signs of concussion or serious injury that I can detect. Would you like to go see Ai now?”

His stomach churned nervously, but he nodded. She tucked the chart into her elbow and gestured for him to follow her out of the room, and he fell in step beside her without hesitation. As they walked through the halls, Baira explained some of the history of the makeshift clinic. It had been among the first buildings in this camp and served as the center for serious medical care. While medics could do basic medicine out on the field, the life-threatening injuries had to be transported here, where there was better equipment and a dedicated staff that worked in shifts around the clock.

Yusaku was barely listening. His heart skipped a beat with every door they passed, anticipating Ai’s appearance with every step. He was a mix of emotions — he truly wanted to see Ai, but what would he say?? All along, he’d hoped he would figure that out when the time came, but now his mind was drawing a complete blank. He fought down the bubble of panic building up inside of him and tried to focus on Baira’s words when they finally stopped in front of a heavy steel door. A small, square window allowed Yusaku a glimpse of the softly lit hallway beyond.

Two guards stood on either side of the steel door, and they gave Yusaku and Baira no more than a passing glance. Baira produced a key card from her lab coat pocket and swiped it in front of the padlock. With a cheery beep, the red light turned green and she pushed the door open. It swung wide, surprisingly smooth and quiet for so heavy a door. Baira gestured ahead of her into the hallway.

“After you.”

Yusaku stepped past her cautiously and found that the corridor held no more than twelve rooms. Baira pointed ahead towards the closed door at the far right end from where they stood. On the outside of the door hung a plastic placard displaying the numbers _012_. The other doors had identical signs with different numbers. They started off towards _012_, Baira explaining things to him in a very soft voice.

“This is our quiet wing. This is where our most severe cases of psychological trauma come to recuperate for a bit until they’re ready for outpatient treatment.”

Yusaku glanced in one door as they passed and noticed a young woman staring blankly at the floor. She sat on the edge of a hospital bed while a medic gently draped a blanket over her shoulders. The girl neither blinked nor moved as this happened, nor did she react when the medic spoke softly to her and began gently combing her dark hair. It was as if she was far away from the world around her, her body running on autopilot. Baira sighed despondently, having followed Yusaku’s gaze.

“Sadly, some of these folks might never make it out of here. That poor girl saw her whole family die in one of the initial onslaughts from Ai’s army. She hasn’t spoken a word since she was brought here two years ago. We do the best we can for patients like her. It’s just heartbreaking sometimes when it seems like they won’t get better.”

He nodded in growing trepidation. Would Ai have to remain here indefinitely, as well? He pulled up short when he realized they had reached their destination. He peeked inside the window and found Ryoken standing with his back to the door. An empty hospital bed rested to his immediate left. From his angle at the door, Yusaku could see a large, curtained window along the left-hand side of the room. Before it, Homura Takeru stood with his hands folded loosely together. It was a bit startling to see him outside of his guise as Soulburner. Yusaku could see the change two years had made in the squareness of his jaw and shoulders, and in the broadness of his chest and arms. Zaizen Aoi stood beside him, leaning against the wall with a completely disinterested look upon her face. Her hair was much longer now, tied back in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, and she was far more muscular than the slim girl he knew from his own dimension.

“…Ai, you’re eventually going to have to talk to us,” he heard Ryoken say through the door.

He shifted, curiosity mingling with fear as he strained for a better look at Ai. He found the android sitting despondently in the strangest wheelchair he’d ever seen. It had been heavily modified to accommodate two fully enclosed armrests of black steel, into which Ai’s forearms had been secured. The chair’s footrests had been replaced by similar black steel casings that were fastened around Ai’s legs. Around his neck, the collar Ryoken had fastened earlier glinted dully, the bright green light pulsating in time with the blue light at the center of Ai’s throat.

Ai was disheveled, stripped down to just a loose white hospital gown, his hair a mess of dark curls that hid his expression from view. He looked disturbingly small, hunched over as he was. It was so unlike him that it made Yusaku’s heart ache tightly in his chest. He balled his hands into fists at his sides but remained frozen in place, unsure if he should disrupt the goings-on before him. It felt safer out here beyond the glass where he was no more than a casual observer. He knew, however, that sooner or later he would have to enter the room. He had made this mess; it was his duty to see it finished.

As if sensing his thoughts, Baira reached out and twisted the handle, pushing the door open. She gestured for Yusaku to move ahead of her.

“Go on in. I’m right behind you.”

He did so with a growing sense of dread, which only spiked when Ryoken turned, saw him enter, and then frowned deeply at Baira.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to be here.”

“He wanted to see Ai,” she replied with an unapologetic shrug. “I don’t see any harm in it.”

Whatever arguments Ryoken made next were lost on Yusaku. All he could focus on was Ai’s miserable, blank expression, and the ache in his chest only increased. He pushed past Ryoken, moving right to the side of Ai’s wheelchair and lowered himself down to one knee on the cold tile floor.

“Ai,” he called softly and placed a hand gently on the android’s upper arm.

Like flipping a light switch, the blank expression left Ai’s face and his golden eyes came to focus on Yusaku. He blinked rapidly several times, mouth moving in silent confusion as he struggled for words to say. Yusaku was suddenly worried that the EMP weapons had done more than simply force Ai’s systems to temporarily shut down. Had they also wiped out some of his memories? He gently reached up and pushed some of Ai’s wild hair back from his face.

“Ai…are you alright? Do you know who I am?”

“_Yusaku_,” the android finally whispered.

Tears started to well up in his eyes, but he quickly closed them, shaking his head a bit as if denying himself the right to them. He turned away from Yusaku before opening his eyes again, a dark and dismal expression blanketing his face.

“The _other_ Yusaku. From the _other _dimension. The one _I_ know is still dead.”

It was Yusaku’s turn to struggle for words. He had no idea how to answer the bitterness he could hear in Ai’s voice. He ducked his head in shame, staring in blank panic at the hand still resting lightly against Ai’s arm. Ai shifted uncomfortably against that touch, hunching even further away from Yusaku.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…really hard to look at you right now. I know you’re _not_ him, but I wish you were.”

Yusaku recoiled from him. Something about Ai’s demeanor was repellent to him, as if he did not wish for Yusaku to be there at all. The rejection stung more than Yusaku cared to admit, but before he could scrape together any sort of reply, Ryoken stepped forward to insert himself into the conversation.

“We still have to figure out what to do with you until trial,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “It is likely you will remain here under—”

“_Oh, just kill me already,”_ Ai spat. He tugged impatiently against his restraints. “Don’t drag this out anymore; just end it! Is it a confession you want?! I’m guilty. I did it. I killed all those people, so please _just end it already_.”

His eyes fixated on Yusaku sharply, pinning him place with their anger. His jaw flexed in rage.

“You should have just let them kill me. It was finally over, but you ruined it.”

Yusaku drew back from him, afraid. His eyes were wide in horror and his heart thumped against his chest.

“_Ai_…”

“You _really_ want us to kill you?” Ryoken cut in, deflecting Ai’s attention back to him.

“_Did I stutter?!”_

Yusaku had no idea what to do or what to say. He was beginning to believe that Ai was well and truly beyond his help now, and it was breaking his heart. He balled his hands into fists and turned away, trembling. Ai sighed heavily behind him, sounding almost impatient.

“You just don’t understand. I don’t _want_ to live in a world without Yusaku. _I can’t._ So please, just—“

“Oh, _shut up_.”

It was Aoi who spoke, her voice sizzling like acid. Everyone turned to her in surprise. Her glare burned with amber hatred, and Ai shrank back from her cautiously as she came to stand before him.

“I have had _enough_ of listening to your whining. _You disgust me_. You’ve been using Yusaku’s death to justify the murder of _thousands_ of innocent people, and now you have the gall to sit there and act like you’re somehow the _victim_ in all of this?! _How dare you!_ My brother tried to _save_ Yusaku’s life, and _you killed him for it_!”

She was trembling. Her eyes were shining now from the tears she refused to shed.

“Did you really do all of this because you wanted to _die_?!”

Ai stared up at her evenly.

“Yes.”

“_Why?! Why not just destroy yourself instead if you wanted to die that badly?!”_

“It’s not that simple.”

“_Seems simple enough to me!!”_

“_Well, it’s not!_” he shot back. “There was _no choice_ but to keep escalating things! I _can’t_ kill myself; there is a self-preservation protocol built into me that I can’t remove! _One of you has to kill me!”_

He suddenly started thrashing against his restraints violently, nearly tipping over the wheelchair. Only Takeru and Ryoken were able to keep it from falling over, grabbing it by the wheels and handles.

“_Kill me!” _Ai began to scream. “_Kill me, kill me!”_

_“NO!” _Aoi roared above his hysteria, and Ai halted, looking up at her in abject horror.

“_You don’t deserve an easy way out!_ After everything you have done, I want you to _suffer!_ I want you to feel _every_ _ounce_ of the pain you’ve inflicted on _me_ and _everyone else_ in this city! You don’t _get_ to escape while the rest of us have to stay behind and clean up the mess _you_ made!! _If I have to live in this world without my brother, then you have to figure out how to live in this world without Yusaku!!”_

“_No!_” Ai squirmed about desperately in his restraints. “_No, please—!”_

But Aoi was no longer listening. She turned and stalked angrily towards the door.

“Zaizen,” Yusaku called after her, and she whirled on him, assailing him with the full force of her anger.

“_Are you happy?!_” she hissed at him. “He’s not even _sorry _for what he’s done, but at least _you_ got what you wanted! _He gets to live!_”

With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her so hard that the glass window shook dangerously within its frame. But her words sent Yusaku reeling down a wild spiral of horror and revulsion. Happy?! No. He was _not_ happy. This was _not_ what he wanted; not at all. The world began spinning around him, filling up with too much noise and too many sensations, and he couldn’t breathe. He clutched at his chest, so suffocatingly tight all at once, and staggered a half step.

“Yusaku?” he distantly heard Takeru call, but he couldn’t answer. He stumbled some more, free hand reaching blindly for something solid to grab onto. Baira came to his rescue, grabbing his hand and pulling him in close with an arm around his shoulders.

“Calm down,” she said softly. “It’s alright; just breathe.”

“_I didn’t want this_,” Yusaku gasped.

“I know. It’s okay.”

But it was _not _okay, and Yusaku knew it. He tore himself from her grasp, rushing back to Ai and grabbing him by the shoulders. He gave the startled android a good shake.

“_Stop it_,” he said. “This isn’t _you_, Ai! _Why_ are you acting like this?! You never wanted to hurt anyone before, so _why_…?! It can’t be because…!!”

He stopped, the words locking in his throat. His hands slid down to rest on Ai’s chest, his head lowering as the tears sprang up in his eyes again. He couldn’t prevent them from overflowing and rolling down his cheeks this time, however. Unbeknownst to him, Ai’s expression was morphing into something like horror at the sight of Yusaku in such distress.

“I think I finally understand,” Yusaku said after a few moments, “why the Ai of my dimension chose to die to save me. I would give _anything_ to save you right now if I could, but…I can’t do it, can I? Because you don’t _want_ to be saved, do you?”

The android’s eyes only widened. Yusaku straightened, scrubbing hard at his face.

“Ai told me that he couldn’t choose the kind of future where I died. I didn’t understand that before. I thought he was just being selfish, making a decision like that without considering what it would do to me. How it would make me feel.”

His gaze found Ai’s, and Ai saw a profound sort of loneliness in those green depths that mirrored his own. Yusaku winced, a small, rueful smile coming to his face.

“But I’ve been just as selfish here with you. I knew that you wanted to die; I _knew_ that. But I _couldn’t_ choose that future. I told myself that I could save you, but it was only because I didn’t want to watch you die again. I didn’t stop to consider how that would make _you_ feel.

His gaze dropped to the floor.

“I still don’t want you to die. I want you to live and grow; to learn from your mistakes and become a better person. I want you to have a future. I don’t want you to always end your life because of me. That’s not fair — not to you or to me. You’re more than just a machine, Ai; you’re a person — a _living being_!”

He shuffled from one foot to the other, hands tucking into his pockets.

“I really believe that. I’ve _always_ believed that about you. But…”

Here, he hesitated. He didn’t want to say the next words, but he knew he could never live with himself if he didn’t. He looked sheepishly at Ai through the part in his bangs for the briefest of seconds before his gaze dropped back to the floor.

“But I know I’m asking you to do something that may be too hard for you. I’m asking you to do something I, myself, can’t do: to live in a world without Fujiki Yusaku — without _me._ I’ve been searching for the Ai of my dimension for two weeks now, because…because I just can’t accept that he’s gone.”

He let out a sigh and scuffed a shoe against the tile floor. A moment later, he squared his shoulders and straightened, locking eyes with Ai once more.

“My point is…I’m sorry for being selfish, but I still want you to live. I…care about you. More than…I am really able to say...”

Whatever else he might have said went out of his head a moment later when Ai suddenly slumped over in his chair and let out a frustrated sob. Several more followed, his tears dotting the white hospital gown with grey. Yusaku stared in horror. The others seemed as much at a loss as he.

“_I’m so sorry, Yusaku_,” Ai cried. “When I learned of your existence two years ago, I only thought to bring you here to —!!”

“_What?”_

The question had escaped past his lips in a gasp before Yusaku could stop himself.

“What do you _mean_, Ai? _You_ brought me here?!”

Ai seemed baffled by Yusaku’s confusion.

“I thought you knew that. Who else would have sent a datastorm to you?”

Yusaku swallowed hard. It was a fair point, and he supposed that on some level he had always known there was _some_ logical explanation for how he’d gotten to this dimension. Had the last 72 hours not been quite so whirlwind, he might have even figured it out for himself. But to learn that he had been specifically _targeted _did not sit comfortably in his mind.

“What do you mean that you learned about my existence two years ago?” he asked.

Ai seemed very hesitant to reply, shifting uncomfortably in his restraints and looking anywhere except at Yusaku.

“…two years ago, when the Yusaku of this dimension died, I got desperate to bring him back. I did research into time travel, thinking I could go back and stop it from happening, but no such luck. Time only goes in one direction, it turns out. But I did end up learning about interdimensional travel.”

His eyes came to rest on Yusaku’s shoes, still not quite ready to meet his eyes.

“Not that many years ago, there used to be four separate dimensions, and travel between them was possible for a time until they were merged back into one. There’s still…echoes of other dimensions, however – timelines that split off based on the decisions we make each and every day. They’re copies of each other; they exist parallel to one another and almost never interconnect. Alternate universes, you might call them, where you and I lead thousands of different lives.”

There was a long pause as everyone in the room tried to digest his explanation. Takeru frowned and scratched at his head, giving Ryoken a very confused look. Ryoken merely folded his arms across his chest again, clearly interested on what else Ai had learned. Yusaku was likewise interested, but for very different reasons. Ai finally let out a long sigh and picked up the thread again.

“When I learned that all these different universes existed alongside mine, I began to search for anywhere that you’d might still be alive. It just so happened that your timeline and mine were so incredibly similar that pulling you into this one was an extremely simple matter. However…your timeline’s two years behind mine. When I sent the datastorm to retrieve you, I didn’t realize it would take two years for you to catch up to it. I thought it had failed.”

He finally raised his head to meet Yusaku’s eyes. His expression was one of profound resignation.

“I don’t deny that I had every intention of keeping you here, forever,” Ai said plainly. “I love you. I have _always_ loved you. I didn’t want to live in this world without you, so I stole you from your home. I guess we’re _both_ incredibly selfish.”

A stunned sort of silence filled the room. Yusaku tried his best to get his mind to form a coherent response but failed. He couldn’t process anything anymore. An exhausted sort of numbness was beginning to creep over him. Homesickness swept over him once more; he didn’t want to be here, anymore – didn’t want to sort through any more of this mess.

“Please,” Ai spoke up again. He looked up at Ryoken beside him. “I know I’ve done terrible things…but I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I just want it all to _stop_. Whatever you decide to do with me, I’ll…I’ll accept it. Just, please…let it end. I’m tired.”

It was Ryoken’s turn to swallow hard, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and respond, but Takeru beat him to it. He dropped a comforting hand on the android’s shoulder. Ai looked over at him in shock.

“Look…for what it’s worth, I believe you,” Takeru said. “I don’t think you want to hurt anybody anymore. But, like Yusaku, I think you can change for the better. I think you deserve a second chance, and I’d like to help you through it, if you’ll let me.”

His eyes dropped to the floor as sadness fell over his face.

“No one should have to deal with their grief alone.”

“Homura,” Ryoken cautioned softly, “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to be responsible for him?”

Takeru was silent for a moment. His eyes traveled back to Ai and took in his haggard appearance. Then, he lifted his gaze to find Yusaku, studying him wordlessly. Yusaku was not sure what Takeru saw there, but his mouth formed a determined little line before he looked to Ryoken and nodded.

“I can’t help thinking that…if I had been the one to die instead of Flame, and if he were in Ai’s position…I’d want someone to help him. I’d want someone to look after him and make sure he was okay. So yes – I’ll take full responsibility for him. If…that’s okay with you, Ai…”

Ai shrugged half-heartedly.

“I don’t care.”

Ryoken studied them a moment longer before letting out a small sigh. “Very well. Ai will remain in your custody effective immediately. But I’ll also be keeping an eye on both of you. You’ve been notoriously impulsive in the past, Homura, so there’s no telling what you’d accidentally trigger…”

_“What’d you say?!”_

Yusaku didn’t listen to the rest of their squabble. He was too focused on Ai, who sat in sullen silence between the two combatants, staring at his knees. As if sensing Yusaku’s gaze upon him, however, he looked up. Their eyes met. Yusaku could read the profound yearning inside of Ai that he knew without a doubt was being reflected back from him. He wanted to comfort the android; wanted to give him even the smallest pittance of hope. But he was not a part of this world – had never been and never would be. There was nothing he could say or do that would ease the pain in either of them, and they both knew that.

Ai let his gaze drop to the floor. Baira’s hand came to rest on Yusaku’s shoulder in that same instant. She beckoned for him to follow her back into the hallway, and he did so without a word – leaving Ai, and his heart, behind him.


	14. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are endings and beginnings

_“Out of the depths we crawled to light_

_Never give in when the fire rises_

_Standing here we are unified_

_Our hearts bear crosses_

_Can't turn back now_

_We are, we are the revelation_

_So scream it out loud_

_We are, we are the birth of a nation_

_So join as one_

_It's time to raise our flags up high_

_We are, we are the revelation _

_So scream it out loud”_

** _-Revelation_ ** _ Black Veil Brides_

Yusaku passed the next week in a self-imposed exile.

Ryoken had offered him a solitary cabin on the far side of the camp and a small contingent of guards to watch the perimeter. He had accepted both readily. The cabin turned out be a modest, two room structure, with a bed in one corner of the main room and a small folding table with two folding chairs in the other. He had a private bathroom with running water and a small fireplace, the latter of which Yusaku found himself dozing before every night, wrapped in the spare blanket from his bed with a cup of coffee slowly cooling in his hands.

The small army of Knights that surrounded the outside of his cabin was an extremely welcome deterrent to visitors. Many people had seen the end of his fight with Ai and had, thusly, learned the secret of his identity as both Playmaker and Fujiki Yusaku, and there had been no end to the curious crowds whose morbid curiosity about their local resurrected saint was thinly disguised as attempts to offer their favorite hero their gratitude. Rumors were already swirling far and wide around the camp as to how he'd had managed to cheat death and return from the grave to avenge them all. Most were just fantastical nonsense, but some were closer to the truth than they would ever know. 

Yusaku was in no mood to entertain them either way. He had reached a new level of exhaustion by this time and the idea of interacting with strangers left him drained and overly anxious. At one point, he’d heard fervent prayers being said just outside his door, and it had unnerved him enough that he had very little desire to step outside the security of these four walls. Fortunately, there was very little reason to do so. There was little else he wished to do except sleep and sit in front of his fire. He did not even need to leave for meals, as they were brought by someone every day.

The only visitors he permitted were Ryoken, Takeru, or Baira, and their appearances were rare, indeed. Reconstruction was in full swing, and each of them played an important role to that end, especially Ryoken. The people had wanted to elect him as their new Mayor, he confessed over dinner one night, but he’d turned them down.

“You can hardly blame them,” Yusaku put in. “You’ve been protecting them for two years. It’s only natural that they’d want to continue that stability.”

“I’m a _war _leader,” Ryoken huffed into his water glass. “I’m far better suited to a field of battle than I am to sitting behind a desk, listening to bureaucratic nonsense. Let that be someone else’s problem. I’ll help them rebuild their city, but I’m not about to run it for them.”

Yusaku only smirked around his next bite of food and said no more, but Ryoken noticed it and scowled deeply, snatching a dumpling angrily with his chopsticks.

The next night, he was quite surprised to open the door to the usual knock but found Shima Naoki waiting nervously on the other side.

“I asked Revolver if I could be the one to bring you dinner tonight,” he said, shuffling from one foot to the other, eyes on Yusaku’s shoes. “I hope you don’t mind. I…I just wanted to talk to you before you went home.”

He took a chance and peeked at Yusaku’s face, and his cheeks turned slight pink at the sight of Yusaku’s soft smile. Yusaku moved aside, opening the door wider, and Shima grinned happily as he stepped inside. They passed the meal in pleasant conversation, Shima his usual perky self, gesticulating wildly as he described numerous close calls during the last two years. Yusaku let him do most of the talking, content to listen and offer reactions where appropriate. When the meal and the tales were all finished, Shima sat back in his chair and sighed.

“I still can’t believe I never figured it out,” he said with a rueful grin, tilting his head at Yusaku. “You were Playmaker the whole time and I never figured it out.”

“To be fair, you weren’t _supposed_ to figure it out,” Yusaku replied with a shrug.

“Okay, but still! You would think I would have picked up some clues at _some_ point! I mean, you always disappeared at the exact moments when Playmaker appeared, and you were always sleeping class and stuff. I thought you just had narcolepsy or something!”

That earned a small chuckle from Yusaku, and Shima positively _beamed_ at the reaction before his eyes grew wistful and distant.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell him? The me of your dimension, I mean.”

Yusaku tilted his head as if pretending to think it over. He smirked.

“Probably not.”

“What?! Awww, _come on_!! That’s so mean!!”

Yusaku only chuckled into his coffee cup, sipping bemusedly as Shima attempted to make his case before packing up the dishes with a huff. To make it up to him, Yusaku acquiesced to his request for a departing hug – which he regretted immediately after Shima’s clear attempt to snap his spine. It was worth it, he supposed, for the sense of closure he could see in Shima’s expression.

Towards the end of the week, Ryoken sent a messenger to deliver the news Yusaku had been anticipating most of all: his team of scientists had finally worked out the method to inter-dimensional travel and he would be sent home the following day. Yusaku’s stomach flip-flopped after hearing this, but he only nodded his thanks to the messenger before closing the door and returning to his place at the fire. The cup wobbled slightly in his hands as he tried to sip his coffee, so he set it down on the table and stared absently into the flames. Everything would be fine. He’d gotten here in one piece, hadn’t he? He winced at the memory of the pain in his wrist. _Mostly_ intact, anyway, so traveling back into his own dimension should be simple enough.

But that wasn’t entirely the reason he felt so anxious, and he knew it, but he couldn’t acknowledge the real source of his unease. There was nothing he could do about that, after all. Decisions had been made, and he had no choice but to continue along the path he’d chosen for himself.

Still, it was hardly surprising that he spent the night wide awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling and worrying. When sunlight finally reached his pillow, he sighed and dutifully climbed from the bed. He barely touched the breakfast provided for him, preferring to drink almost the entire pot of coffee in an effort to ward off sleep deprivation and steady his nerves. All too soon, his escort arrived with a truck to take him to Ai’s former tower.

As they pulled up in front of the building, Yusaku saw it was in the middle of being torn down. Every scrap of material was being carefully removed and loaded onto flatbeds and dump trucks, no doubt to be repurposed for future buildings or to reinforce some of the structures that had survived the war. As a result, the structure looked far less imposing than it had when Yusaku had last been inside of it – a great beast that had been defanged. Yusaku tried not to think about what had been in the basement. He’d told Ryoken about it, of course, and the man had reported back that they’d relocated the contents of that particular chamber, but the memory of that close encounter still had the hair on the back of Yusaku’s neck standing on end.

Ryoken and Baira were waiting for him at the entrance.

“I’m sorry to make you come all this way,” Ryoken said as Yusaku fell in step between them, “but the device is just too big to move. You’ll understand when you see it.”

Yusaku quirked an eyebrow, but asked no questions, certain Ryoken was right. It did not take long for them to reach their destination — a short trip down the main staircase and through a set of steel doors into the largest antechamber Yusaku had ever seen. He experienced an immediate sense of vertigo, for the bottom of the chamber fell far and away below his feet. Ryoken caught him by the arm as he reeled, and as he recovered, he realized the floor of this room was made of a very thick glass.

“Leave it to Ai to do something so dramatic and impractical in terms of room design,” Ryoken smirked as he ushered Yusaku through his first shaky-kneed steps into the room. “You’ll get used to it in a minute or two.”

Yusaku gulped, but eventually released his death grip on Ryoken’s elbow and looked around cautiously. At the very center of the chamber rose a huge, black device. It looked vaguely like a telescope rising up towards the ceiling at a slight angle, but both ends were capped by large orbs covered in countless iridescent lenses. The glass shimmered and glittered as it moved imperceptibly, projecting light that could not be detected with the naked eye.

“What is this?”

“This is a Real Solid Vision projector,” Ryoken told him. “Awhile back, this was how people used to Duel until it was deemed too dangerous and was quickly replaced by VR technology. This particular device is what Ai used to merge Link VRAINS and the real world.”

“So that’s why all the monsters seemed real.” He looked over at Ryoken curiously. “Is it permanent? Or can you turn it off?”

“We can turn it off. Once we do that, the city should return to normal. But we have to wait to do that until after we send you back to your own dimension. It turns out this device also powers the inter-dimensional gate.”

He led the way through a maze of consoles and monitoring equipment. Some machines were in the process of being dismantled, while, at others, groups of engineers were pouring over the contents on the screens before them. Some talked excitedly in small groups, clearly amazed by what they were finding as they dug further into all the data Ai had left behind.

“Ai’s research is proving to be very helpful in many ways. He had a lot of plans for rebuilding Den City after he won the war that we actually plan to implement.”

He shook his head in something like amazement.

“It’s a bit surreal, if I’m honest. From what I can tell, I think he was planning to demand our unconditional surrender and turning this place into a strict, military city-state. There are incredibly detailed designs for cultivating agriculture, restarting the economy, and redeveloping residential and urban areas. Some of the urban planning and agricultural development ideas are already proving helpful to us. We’ll figure out the rest on our own.”

“I’m sure the neighboring cities will also be willing to help,” Yusaku put in and Ryoken nodded.

“We’ve already managed to establish contact with them, and relief is on the way. But I didn’t bring you here to talk about all that. Let’s talk about the inter-dimensional gate.”

He led Yusaku over to a remote part of the room where a lone console looked out over an open area of floor. An engineer sat at the console, feverishly typing lines of code. Roboppi stood beside the man, making him very nervous with the occasional comment as they loomed over his shoulder. Yusaku peered at their work curiously but could not make heads or tails of it.

“Ai did _extensive_ research into inter-dimensional travel, and we’ve spent the past week pouring over it. We learned that, when he originally opened the gate to bring you into this dimension, the Real Solid Vision projector didn’t have enough power to make up for the time differential between our dimensions. He chose to rely on the power of the datastorm, instead, but could only guess when it would finally appear in your dimension based on his calculations. Fortunately, during the last two years, he was able to stabilize the projector and we’ll be able to send you back much more quickly and smoothly.”

“How soon until it’s ready?”

“I think another hour or two. I’ll send for the others, if that’s alright with you. I’m sure they’ll want to say their goodbyes before you go.”

Yusaku’s stomach fluttered nervously.

“Yes. Of course.”

Perhaps only thirty minutes after he sent out his messages, Aoi arrived. Sugisaki Miyu came in a few steps behind her, and Yusaku was honestly surprised to see her. He knew of her, of course, and knew, too, her connection to the Lost Incident, but he had never even formally met her in his own dimension. She smiled warmly and waved a greeting to him as she and Aoi approached, and he offered a very shy wave in return before Aoi stepped in front of him, gaining his full attention.

“I want to apologize for the way I acted the last time we saw each other,” she said. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay. You were upset.”

She shifted her feet, hands coming up to rest on her hips defensively. She looked down her nose at him.

“I hope you know that I’m _not_ going to be able to forgive him. Not ever. Not after everything he’s done.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

She blinked, caught a bit off guard by his bluntness. He shrugged.

“I understand something of how you feel,” he explained. “I still haven’t forgiven all the people involved in the Lost Incident. I’d be a hypocrite if I preached to you about ‘forgive and forget’. It’s up to you how you want to feel.”

She blinked a few more times, seeming to digest his words, and then only nodded.

“I appreciate that.”

She might have said more but Roboppi suddenly popped up between them.

“_Not-Master!!”_ they wailed, latching onto Yusaku’s waist tightly. “_Roboppi does not want you to go!!”_

Yusaku let out a patient sigh and dropped a hand on the tiny android’s head. They tilted their head back, looking up at him with huge, teary golden eyes.

“Roboppi does not want you to _stay_, either, though. Not-Master will not be happy here. Roboppi wants Not-Master to be happy.”

Yusaku smiled softly at them and patted their head a few times. Roboppi beamed under the attention, then looked very troubled.

“You can make a Roboppi of your own on the other side, right?? Then Not-Master will not have to be alone.”

They looked down.

“Roboppi wanted to go with Not-Master, but Mr. Ryoken Sir said he needed my help here. So Roboppi will stay! Roboppi likes being helpful!!”

Yusaku smiled softly.

“I’ll be fine, Roboppi. I know that you’ll be a lot more help here than you would be in my dimension. I’m counting on you to help the people of this dimension rebuild their homes and their lives.”

Roboppi moved a step back and gave him a sharp salute.

“Roger, roger, Not-Master.”

They sobered, and then moved in to give him another hug.

“Roboppi will miss you.”

“And I will miss Roboppi,” Yusaku assured them, patting their head gently a few more times.

It was a long time before Roboppi let him go and returned to their place at the engineer’s side. Yusaku turned at the sound of footsteps to find Takeru approaching him. The young man grinned widely and offered Yusaku his hand as he came. Yusaku took it, and they exchanged a warm handshake.

“It was so great having you here,” Takeru said. “It felt like old times again.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

Takeru grinned again, then sobered. He moved back a step and ruffled his white-and-red hair sheepishly, stuffing both hands into his pants pockets a moment later.

“I wish Kusanagi could have been here, too. Then it _really_ would have felt like old times.”

Yusaku bit the inside of his cheek as he nodded noncommittally. He felt an intense flush of anxiety at those words and just tried to remind himself that Kusanagi was alive and well in his own dimension. 

A flash of movement over Takeru’s shoulder had him jerking his head up, and Takeru turned to see what had so arrested his attention. Ai was weaving his way through the consoles, escorted by four Knights who carried EMP rifles in their hands. His forearms and hands were completely enclosed in conjoined cuffs of blackened steel. He wore none of his previous finery; instead, he wore a plain cotton shirt and trousers, both a nondescript grey. His hair was tied up in a messy ponytail. He walked slowly, eyes fixed on the ground. Occasionally, he’d lift his gaze to the Real Solid Vision projector and wince. Ryoken noticed him finally and, as he made his way towards the android, Ai took a quick glance around the room, saw Yusaku, and froze.

Their eyes met. Yusaku’s heart began to pound in his ears. Ai just looked so defeated and dejected that Yusaku just _ached_, but there was nothing he could do. And they both knew that. Ai looked away only moments later, turning his full attention to Ryoken’s words and all but ignoring Yusaku’s entire presence. Yusaku did his best not to resent that, turning away a little sharper than he meant to and forcing his fists to relax.

“He’ll be okay,” Takeru suddenly said, startling him.

“What?”

“Ai. He’s gonna be alright, I promise. I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure of that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked over at the android.

“It…_definitely_ isn’t going to be easy. Lots of people aren’t going to be willing to forgive him or accept he wants to change. I’m not even sure if _I _totally forgive him for everything he’s done, myself! But…I just keep thinking about Flame…and the other Yusaku…and you…”

He looked over at Yusaku once more.

“Maybe I don’t totally forgive him, but I don’t have to, do I? I mean…he did some really messed up stuff! But…I believe him when he says he doesn’t want to hurt anybody anymore. Doesn’t he deserve a chance to do better if he really wants to _be_ better??”

He ruffled his hair and then dragged that hand down his face again. He stuffed his hands back into his pockets and hunched his shoulders.

“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m crazy, and maybe he doesn’t even _want_ to get better. But I honestly think he does — he’s been helping Ryoken and the engineers get this place set up to send you back. He’s also been helping to explain a lot of his research when they ask him. I really think he wants to get better, so I think he deserves a chance to try! So…it’s risky, sure, but I figure he could use a friend in his corner. The rest of the world’s gonna always be against him, you know?”

His words were meant to offer comfort, but instead, they began to fill Yusaku with horror. He looked over at Ai once again. By this time, he’d been freed from his manacles and stood in conference with Ryoken and the engineer. He really had doomed Ai to a life in a world full of people who hated him, hadn’t he? But what else could he have done? a tiny voice inside of him wondered. He could not have destroyed Ai a second time, but he was beginning to fear that doing so might have been the more merciful option.

He spent the next several minutes distracted and agitated, pacing a bit, fiddling with his tie, and crossing then uncrossing his arms. Every time he looked over at the console, Ai was talking quietly to the nervous engineer, pointing here and there to things on the screen. There was a note of resignation in everything he did. It was as if he didn’t really care what was going on and was simply going through the motions and doing what he was told. It bothered Yusaku more than he cared to admit. Such an attitude didn’t suit Ai at all.

Ryoken watched the work at the console in silence, until Ai finally turned and gave him a nod. His light blue eyes found Yusaku and he beckoned him over with a wave of one hand.

“We’re almost ready. Everyone, come say your goodbyes while they make their final adjustments.”

The tiny gathering moved to the side of the console, Aoi the first to grip Yusaku’s hand and give it a firm shake.

“Good luck,” she offered, and then moved back.

Miyu swooped in just behind her, grabbing Yusaku’s hand with both of hers and giving it an enthusiastic shake.

“Look me up on the other side, okay?? I’m sure the other me would love to get to know you!”

He offered her a faint smile and a nod. She grinned, satisfied, and moved aside so that Roboppi could tackle-hug him once more. When he finally extracted himself from the tiny android, he found Takeru was already tearing up a bit. Takeru rubbed the back of his neck, a small, rueful laugh escaping him.

“Wow…this is much harder than I thought it’d be.”

“For me, too,” Yusaku admitted. He took Takeru’s hand when it was offered and shook it warmly. Takeru clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Take care of yourself, man.”

He wiped at his eyes hurriedly, a few tears escaping him. He laughed again.

“Sorry. I’ll be okay. I’m just really gonna miss you.”

Yusaku swallowed. He did not know how to respond, and Takeru seemed to understand that, offering him a wobbly but reassuring smile and giving his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Alright,” Ryoken said. He turned to the engineer. “Whenever you are ready.”

The engineer turned his eyes to Ai. The android was lost in space, eyes staring blankly for several moments. He jolted when he happened to glance over and notice all eyes were on him.

“Oh…sorry…what are we…?”

“The coordinates,” the engineer told him. “We need the coordinates to put Mr. Fujiki back in his proper timeline.”

“Right. Yes. Excuse me.”

He reached stiffly across the engineer and rapidly typed in a few numbers. The Real Solid Vision projector stirred to life, its hum like the low, deep rumble of a beast awakening from hibernation. A small panel on the side of the machine opened and a mechanical arm slid out, a large cylinder on its end. When it reached the end of its track, the cylinder opened like a four-petaled flower, revealing a device that reminded Yusaku of a laser pointer.

A beam of light shot out of this device, and to the astonishment of all, the very air itself began to ripple and warp. A crack appeared, widening ever so slowly, and the way the fracture spread and widened was reminiscent of a broken mirror. A wind began to blow through the room as the fissure opened to the size of an average doorway.

“Holy shit,” the engineer said, voicing everyone’s opinion.

Yusaku took a small step forward, feeling a bit hesitant at the sight of that ominous white light. Who knew what really lay on the other side? He looked over at Ai, but the android would not meet his gaze.

“This portal will take you back only a few minutes after you left,” Ai said. “This way, you won’t have lost any time.”

Yusaku tried to thank him, but the words got stuck in his throat. Ryoken stepped in front of him before he could make another attempt and offered him a very firm handshake. Just before Yusaku released his grip, however, Ryoken closed his other hand around Yusaku’s and gave it a fond squeeze. There was a very wistful look in his light blue eyes.

“…a very selfish part of me wants to ask you to stay,” he murmured. “But I know you can’t.”

He smiled softly.

“You saved this world, Fujiki Yusaku. Know that we are forever in your debt…and know, too, that I will miss you very much.”

Yusaku swallowed and could only nod shyly as Ryoken released him. He did not know how to answer that grief, for he could not say the same in return.

“Thank you,” he said instead. “For all of your help while I’ve been here. And I wish you all luck in the future.”

Ryoken inclined his head in acknowledgement and smiled. He moved aside and Yusaku found himself facing the portal back home.

He hesitated. Ai remained frozen in place, refusing to look in his direction and hugging himself tight with one arm. Yusaku opened his mouth — fought for words desperately but none would come, and he did not know if Ai would listen to them, anyway. He couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that slipped out before he strode past the console and towards the portal that would take him away from this place.

He was inches from it when Ai suddenly cried out behind him, “Yusaku, _wait_!!”

His feet turned instantly to lead, and he froze. His heart leaped into his mouth. Anxious and irrational thoughts swirled through his mind, all the words he wanted to say fighting for dominance on his tongue as he began to turn. He would never give them voice. A low, startled gasp escaped him as Ai was suddenly _right there, _hooking an arm quickly around his waist and pulling Yusaku tight against him. Ai dipped his head at the same time that he brought his other arm up tight across Yusaku’s back, and then Yusaku’s brain immediately stopped working the moment their mouths became locked in a deep, deep kiss.

A very fluttery feeling swept over him from head to toe. He had never been kissed before, so he had no frame of reference to truly judge the goodness or badness of the kiss, but he knew almost immediately that he _liked_ it — which was very odd because, until this very moment, he could not have said that he had ever even _wanted_ to be kissed. But Ai’s lips felt so _good _against his own – thankfully not at all the alien, synthetic experience he had been expecting but warm and soft and _human_ – and Ai’s arms felt so _nice_ around him that he decided then and there that he absolutely, definitely, and positively _liked_ being kissed. And before his pesky brain could catch up again and stop him, he buried both hands deeply into Ai’s dark curls and kissed Ai right back.

He had no idea what he was doing. His performance was probably sloppy at best, but he made up for lack of technique with enthusiasm. He only knew that he never, ever wanted Ai’s mouth to be separated from his for as long as he lived. If Ai minded his lack of skill, he had a funny way of showing it, uttering a faint, plaintive noise that sent a pleasant rush down Yusaku’s spine and made his toes curl. One of Ai’s hands slid up his back as he pressed their bodies even tighter together, until it came to rest at the base of Yusaku’s neck. Another shiver rippled through Yusaku as Ai’s fingers toyed with the small, downy hairs at his nape. He splayed the fingers of his hand against the small of Yusaku’s back and somehow deepened the kiss, and in the process stole every last thought in Yusaku’s mind and every last breath from his lungs and Yusaku felt positively _giddy_…

But then he was forced to come up for air and the spell was broken. His mind finally caught up to him as he stood gulping for air and clutching at Ai’s shirt, and the sudden horror of what he’d just done swept over him with stomach-dropping agony. He’d _kissed _him. He’d kissed _Ai_. _This_ Ai. He had never felt more confused in his life. Why had he done that?? It wasn’t _right_ – wasn’t _fair—_

Ai interrupted his thoughts once again. He rested his forehead against Yusaku’s, tears running down his cheeks.

“_I’m sorry_,” he murmured.

He pressed a final, reverent kiss to Yusaku’s forehead. A shudder coursed through Yusaku – a sob that he could not – _would not_ – give voice.

“_I have to go_,” he said hurriedly, voice thick. He pulled back against Ai’s grip even though every fiber of his being begged him not to do it.

And Ai, looking every bit as miserable as Yusaku felt, only nodded once and then let him go.

Like a coward, Yusaku ran.

He spun on his heel the instant Ai’s hands dropped away and ran straight through the portal at breakneck speed. He hurtled headlong into the crowded streets beyond, dodging startled people and honking cars and never once daring to look back behind him. Faster and faster he ran – as fast as his legs would carry him. He ignored his ragged breathing; ignored the growing pain in his chest and the stinging in his eyes.

He had to hurry, or else his heart would catch up and force him back the way he’d come.

The cramp in his side and the burning of his lungs finally forced him to a stop. He grabbed blindly for the wrought iron fence before him and doubled over, gagging on a sob that he could not force down. His vision blurred with tears and his hands shook, but he gritted his teeth and begged himself to stop. There was nothing that could be done, now. Ai was gone, beyond his reach once again. He wanted to fall to his knees but forced himself to remain standing. This was the way it was always going to end, so why was he so upset about it?? It was not as if he hadn’t seen it coming.

He tried to distract himself away from the pain in his chest by taking a peek at his surroundings. As if by instinct, he’d wound up running all the way to Stardust Road. Usually, its red brick cobblestones and serene ocean view always brought him some measure of comfort, but, tonight, the calm was almost unnerving. He turned slowly and peeked above the cliffs to the city he could just make out against the late afternoon sun. There was _his_ Den City, whole, hale, and lively, it’s people the beneficiaries of a peace they would forever take for granted. There were no SOLdiers here to spatter the pavement with guns or tear people from their homes with @Ignister Monsters. The sky was bright and clear, free of the glittering circuitry that had so marred the other sky. All of the chaos and confusion of war had been left behind, and there was only the quiet crash of the ocean somewhere below him.

A tiny movement out of the corner of his eye had him turning quickly to the sight of a familiar green food truck. Tears of relief sprang into his eyes almost immediately, but he didn’t need to see the sign clearly to know it read _Café Nagi._ He fumbled frantically for his cellphone, almost dropping it in his haste. His hands trembled as he scrolled desperately for the Contacts folder, scrubbing at his eyes hurriedly as he called the only number contained within. One ring. Then a second. His heart skipped a beat as he heard a _click_ – the other line had picked up.

“_Yusaku??” _came Kusanagi’s worried voice. It was such a welcome sound that Yusaku’s tears filled his eyes anew. “_Is everything okay?? You never call me out of the blue like this.”_

“Sorry,” Yusaku replied, trying and failing to keep his voice from shaking. All of him was shaking. “I’m okay. I just…I wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

He shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair and pacing around a few steps.

“Ahh, sorry. I can’t…it’s hard to explain…I just…are you okay?? Is Jin okay??”

“_…Yusaku, where are you right now? I’m coming to get you.”_

“No, no! I’m…I’m fine. I’m actually down the road from you right now. I can…I’ll just walk there. It’s okay.”

“_I think I see you. Stay right there. I’m coming over.”_

“Kusanagi, no, I…”

But there was no further arguing with Kusanagi, it seemed, for the man had already hung up. For a moment, Yusaku stood frozen in place, bewildered and confused. He looked up and could see a figure frantically packing up tables and chairs and locking down the truck. He started to walk in that direction, but before he got very far, the green truck was beside him and Kusanagi was climbing out of the cab and hurrying to his side.

“Are you alright?!” the man demanded, already able to tell something was dreadfully wrong with hardly a glance. “What happened?!”

A sob slipped out in place of any words he might have tried. Another soon followed. They were tiny, strangled things, and he tried to bury the sound in his hands. Why did this keep happening?? He’d stopped crying over things _years_ ago, but he’d never felt so miserable and lonely since he was six years old.

“Oh, Yusaku,” Kusanagi breathed. His arms closed around Yusaku in a loose hug. “It’s going to be okay.”

It was awhile before Yusaku was able to collect himself enough to pull away. He was ushered into the back of the truck shortly thereafter, only half aware of Kusanagi’s steady hands steering him to a chair and placing a cup of coffee between his palms. Kusanagi took a seat in the other chair and leaned forward onto his knees.

“What happened?”

The words poured out of Yusaku like the opening of a great dam. He told him almost everything, from his final Duel with Ai to his journey through the other dimension and his return home. He left out the part about the kiss — was not ready to confront those new and confusing feelings, yet; not in front of Kusanagi.

Kusanagi was varying degrees of horrified as he listened, but he did not interrupt except to ask a clarifying question or two. When Yusaku was finished, he sat back, propping an elbow on the console beside him and scratching at his chin in thought.

“That’s…if you were _anyone_ else, I don’t know that I could believe this story. But given its you…”

He looked at Yusaku in concern.

“I’m so sorry, Yusaku. I wish I could have been there to help.”

Yusaku only nodded mutely. He felt bone weary and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed back in his tiny apartment. As if sensing this, Kusanagi took his neglected cup of cold coffee and offered him a ride home.

The journey was silent, Yusaku watching the city pass by his window without really seeing any of it. He felt hollow and numb inside. Nothing around him felt real anymore, just a faint buzz against his senses. He barely noticed when the truck came to a stop in front of his building until Kusanagi called his name. The man looked worried as he slid from the seat.

“Hey, let me know if you need anything, okay?” he said. “We might not be business partners anymore, but I’m still your friend, so don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Yusaku didn’t reply.

It was a small measure of relief when he was finally able to shut and lock the door to the outside world. At least here in the dark silence of his apartment, he didn’t have to worry about keeping his walls up. He placed his Duel Disk and phone on his desk as he passed, then crumpled onto his bed when he finally reached it, not bothering to change out of his uniform. He buried his face in his pillow and refused to move again.

He developed something of a routine in the weeks that followed. There were long stretches of time when he would lay in his bed, sometimes sleeping, sometimes staring listlessly at the walls. Other times, he would become consumed with frenetically searching Link VRAINS, staring at the screen until his eyes felt raw and his body too tired to hold him upright anymore. All the while, he ignored concerned texts from Kusanagi and the gnawing pain of hunger in his stomach.

It was useless, he tried to tell himself. Ai was _gone_ and he was just going to have to accept that sooner or later. But he couldn’t. Ai _wasn’t_ gone; just infuriatingly out of reach, and Yusaku would not stop until he had examined every inch of Link VRAINS and chased every last lead that might bring him to Ai.

Three months went by. He dropped into his bed after yet another fruitless night of searching and let out an exhausted sigh, disgusted with himself. This was pointless. He was never going to find Ai. He rolled onto his side, half curling into a ball and shutting his eyes. He just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up again.

His Duel Disk beeped.

Yusaku’s eyes flew open. He sat up and stared at the device as it beeped a second, then a third, then a fourth time.

He leapt from his bed and grabbed the device, slapping it onto his wrist and pulling his Deck from his pocket.

“_Into the VRAINS!_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the actual ending for this story. *Jonathan Van Ness voice* Can you believe?! The Epilogue will be coming in a few days, so stay tuned!


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all's well that ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe this story is finally done. 
> 
> When I started writing Nobody’s Hero, it was an entirely self-indulgent idea that I just started writing for myself. It became a personal challenge, to write something in a way that was easy and enjoyable for me and to also see it to completion. Did you know this is the first story I’ve ever actually finished?? I start a lot of things, but I never complete them for one reason or another. To finally stick with a story and see it through to the end makes me so proud of myself. This is what I needed – to prove to myself that I could do it. 
> 
> I did not expect the response it got, and I’m so flattered and happy that so many people have enjoyed this story! Including, I understand, some friends from overseas!! Thank you all so, so much for coming on this journey with me, and for all your kind words and thoughts along the way. It has been such a pleasure to share this story with you.
> 
> All of my love,  
Evie :)

_Epilogue_

“Ai! I brought you some books to read!” Takeru called as the guards outside locked the front door behind him.

It had only been a few months since Yusaku’s departure back to his own timeline, but it had seemed so much longer. As expected, much of the public had been outraged to learn Ai’s fate. Due to the increasing number of riots and protests, Ryoken had been forced to relocate the android to his old house high up on Stardust Road. Originally built with its own security system in place, the house had served as the hub of all of Hanoi’s operations for well over a dozen years. Ryoken had been certain to update its security regularly through the war, making it the safest place in all of Den City for Ai to serve out his sentence.

Takeru – as Ai’s prison warden, more or less – had also come to live in the house. Ryoken was being overly cautious, he felt, because despite the public’s hatred for Ai, Takeru had somehow escaped becoming a target for their ire. Oh, he’d certainly gotten an earful here and there on job sites from paranoid people wanting to make sure he understood just how important his job was. They didn’t want Ai to escape and wreak havoc again, after all, and Takeru did his best to hear them all out. They had every right to be scared, in his opinion. He tried to reassure as many of them as he could, but it never seemed to help as much as he would have liked. Still, no one had ever been outright violent towards him.

“_Yet_,” Ryoken had replied when he’d voiced the thought once. “I’m not taking any chances, so I’m also assigning you a team of Knights.”

At first, he’d been quite miffed at the implication that he couldn’t protect himself, but after he’d had time to get used to the constant companionship, he came to appreciate someone always watching his back. It gave him peace of mind. It was also nice to have the house as somewhere safe and removed from the public where he could relax and not be on display – where he didn’t have to play the Ignis-Human ambassador for a while and could just be himself.

His housemate did leave something to be desired, however. Although he had told himself not to expect too much from the android, he couldn’t help being a little put out by Ai’s constant, sullen silence. More often than not, he’d find Ai perched in one of the large windows at the rear of the house, staring out at the ocean forlornly for several hours. Takeru would find him there every morning before he left for work, and he’d still be in the same spot when Takeru returned each evening.

He wasn’t living. He was just existing, and it frustrated Takeru to no end because he still did not have the slightest idea how to help him. He tried to find ways to engage him – with conversation, movies, even board games – but Ai remained withdrawn as ever even as he participated in the activities. He did not talk more than was necessary to be polite. He did every task given to him without complaint or comment and he did them with clinical efficiency. When all of his tasks were complete for the day, he’d climb back into his spot at the window and resume his silent watch over the sea.

When someone had offered books to him on the job site that day, Takeru had eagerly accepted them. Perhaps these would be the best things to take the android’s mind off his problems for a while. He was surprised, however, when he walked further into the house and did not find Ai at his usual post.

“Ai?” he called, setting the books on a nearby table.

When he couldn’t locate him anywhere in the common areas of the home, Takeru started back towards the bedrooms. At least once a month, Ai would run maintenance on his systems and charge the SOLtis’ batteries. It was a little like sleep mode on a computer, he’d explained to Takeru. It was just a low power state that allowed him to carry out certain diagnostic functions, but nothing else. He always laid down in the spare bedroom to do so – mostly because the first time Takeru had come across him doing this, he’d gotten quite freaked out by the image of Ai seemingly asleep on his feet. At least if he was in a bed, it made the entire ritual a little less creepy.

“Ai? You back here?”

He pulled up short as Roboppi suddenly came skidding out into the hallway on socked feet. They leaned against the door frame with one hand, putting the other on their hip to affect some semblance of a nonchalant stance.

“Oh! Hello, Mr. Takeru! You’re home early!”

Takeru quirked an eyebrow at them. “Yeah, Boss let us out early for the weekend. What are you doing here? Did you come to hang out with Ai?”

“Uhhhh…sure! Yeah! That’s it! Roboppi came to visit Big Bro! Nothing more than that, nope!”

They laughed nervously. Both of Takeru’s eyebrows migrated towards his hairline. He leaned to peek over Roboppi’s head into the room.

“Where’s Ai? Is he doing maintenance or something?”

Roboppi shifted with him, rising up on their toes in an attempt to block his view.

“No!!” they replied, a bit too quickly. “Uh…I mean…Big Bro is changing!! Yeah!! He’s totally naked, so you can’t look!!”

Takeru gave them a skeptical look and put his hands on his hips.

“Listen, I know I’m not too smart, but that’s gotta be the worst lie I’ve ever heard.” He tried to push past Roboppi into the room, a growing sense of alarm filling him. “What are you guys doing in there?”

Roboppi pushed him back, feigning incredulity.

“What are you?! Some kind of _pervert_?! I told you – he’s totally naked!! Didn’t your grandparents teach you to respect an android’s privacy?!”

Takeru fumbled for an answer, flustered and blushing.

“You—! I—_I don’t have to answer that!!”_

He feinted right and then dodged back to the left around Roboppi, hurrying into the bedroom.

He found Ai lying on the bed, eyes shut, looking for all the world like he was asleep. A short cable ran from the back of his neck over to a laptop perched precariously on the very edge of the nightstand. Takeru’s eyes widened. That was definitely _not _a charging cable, but an ethernet cable. He rushed to the laptop, swiping his finger over the track pad and dismissing the bouncing clock screensaver. A black command window greeted his eyes, the words_ UPLOAD COMPLETE. AWAITING TRANSFER INITIALIZATION… _glaringly white in the darkened room.

“_Ai_,” he hardly dared to breathe. He reached over and began to shake the android, but he knew it was useless. Ai was not there. The power indicator on the SOLtis’ throat was dark, and he could detect none of the usual sounds of machinery whirring inside.

He whirled on Roboppi.

“What have you _done_??”

Roboppi only shrugged and folded their arms nonchalantly behind their head, refusing to speak. Takeru dragged a hand anxiously through his hair and paced back and forth a few times. What should he do?? The collar Ai wore had prevented him from uploading himself wirelessly to computers, and he’d been forbidden from using ethernet cables for this very reason. If the public found out that he’d escaped, there would be massive riots and chaos in the streets.

He turned to Roboppi pleadingly.

“Where is he going?? Roboppi, please tell me! This isn’t a game!”

Roboppi shrugged again.

“He wanted to be with Master.”

_Suicide??_ he thought. But that didn’t make any sense. If he’d merely wanted to be deleted, why bother to upload himself to the network?? Takeru dragging his hands through his hair a few more times. He was well outside of his comfort zone. It was time to call for help.

“Ryoken’s going to _kill _me…” he muttered as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

Ryoken arrived only 20 minutes later. To Takeru’s utter amazement, he scanned the room as casually as can be and then quirked an amused eyebrow.

“Hoh~?” he said quietly, tapping his chin thoughtfully with one finger. “I was wondering where that laptop and cable had gone…”

Takeru sputtered furiously in protest, but Ryoken ignored him, peering closer at the screen. He shot Roboppi a bemused look over one shoulder.

“Interesting program. I wonder where it came from.”

Roboppi looked away and whistled innocently, but Takeru got the distinct sense that they were sharing some kind of inside joke. He scowled as Ryoken took a seat on the edge of the bed, propping the laptop on his knees and typing swiftly.

“Ryoken, how can you act so calm at a time like this?? People will _riot_ if they find out he’s escaped into the net again!!”

“Yes. ‘_If’_.”

“Ryoken!!”

“Calm down, Homura. It’ll be fine. I…_oops.”_ Ryoken lifted his finger from the enter key. “Seems I’ve accidentally initialized the transfer…”

He didn’t look the least bit sorry about it. Takeru made a choked noise and grabbed the laptop to find lines of code racing past, the word _ping_ repeated over and over endlessly at the start of each line. And then, to Takeru’s growing horror, the program ceased its chase. He gasped as a single line of text appeared at the bottom.

_Connection with host lost. _

Takeru stared dumbfoundedly. Ryoken rose to peek over his shoulder.

“Hoh~? Oh, no. Looks like Ai’s been deleted forever.”

Roboppi folded their hands, assuming an expression of mock remorse.

“Poor Big Bro. I guess he shouldn’t have tried to escape.”

Takeru’s mind whirled, struggling to comprehend what had just happened as he bounced back and forth between Ryoken and Roboppi like a spectator at a tennis match. They waited patiently until, like lightning, Roboppi’s earlier words came back to him and comprehension flashed in his eyes.

“You sent him to the other dimension,” he told Ryoken, who grinned proudly at him. He sobered a moment later, however, and looked at his nails in a bored fashion.

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean, Homura. I _definitely_ deleted him after he stole an ethernet cable and laptop from me and escaped his SOLtis.” He waggled a finger warningly at Roboppi. “You better not get any ideas of your own.”

“Roboppi would _never_, Mr. Ryoken Sir!” the tiny android replied, putting a hand against their chest as if insulted.

“Glad to hear it. Now, here. Take care of this.”

He took the laptop from Takeru and handed it over to Roboppi. They grinned gleefully and raised it high over their head, smashing it against the floor as hard as they could and following it with several childish stomps of their feet. Takeru stared at the scene in open amazement while Ryoken just sighed dramatically.

“Roboppi, please. Do be more careful with my things. Look at that, you’ve gone and dropped it and it’s completely ruined now. I’ll have to get a new one.”

Roboppi stuck their hands behind their back, lowering their head as if in apology, but their eager little grin belied their apologetic pose.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ryoken Sir. Roboppi is just _so _clumsy!!”

“You two are definitely not going to be winning any awards for this little skit,” Takeru declared, folding his arms over his chest. “Are you done with your theatrics, now? Can I get on with my day?”

Roboppi only giggled while Ryoken smirked.

“It’s unfortunate that Ai had to be destroyed,” he said, “but what’s done is done. Roboppi, get a broom and dustpan, will you? We’ll have to clean up your mess.”

“Roger roger, Mr. Ryoken Sir!”

The two exited stage right, but Takeru lingered for a moment, looking down at Ai’s empty SOLtis still in repose upon the bed. It was a bit eerie to look at, now, for it seemed like as if Ai would soon open his eyes and reveal the whole thing had been a joke, after all. Takeru stuffed his hands into his pockets, a soft smile on his face. A small part of him was maybe a little bit jealous at the idea that Ai would soon be reunited with the other Yusaku, but his happiness and relief for the peace the Ignis would soon experience far outweighed that feeling. He rubbed the side of his nose for a moment, then rapped a knuckle against the SOLtis’ arm.

“Good luck, Ai.”

The Ignis would need that luck, for as Takeru walked out of the room to see what other sort of shenanigans Ryoken and Roboppi had gotten themselves into, Ai was hurtling at an uncontrolled velocity through time and space.

Ai’s inter-dimensional journey was not as easy as Yusaku’s had been. There was no way to open a single portal in the net and cross over. Instead, it would be series of mini, virtual portals. He would have to ping through several different IP addresses across several different universes until he connected to the correct server. He and Ryoken had done extensive calculations and had planned the fastest route possible, but the sheer amount of ricocheting he was doing made the entire experience a rollercoaster from hell that he could not get off. It was a bit like being trapped in a pinball machine, and he was the pinball.

It was frightening and extremely painful. He screamed as he was ripped apart and then thrust violently back together over and over; reprocessed and reconfigured again and again and again in an endless loop. Memories flashed past him — memories of lives he had never lived, or perhaps had lived too many times. He began to drown in the delirium of them for awhile, hardly able to tell which of these lives had originally been his. He had been them all. Or would be them all? Time was becoming liquid around him. He could no longer tell if he was moving forward or backwards. Perhaps he was not even moving at all and had become no more than a tiny speck of debris in the great sea of Existence.

Bits of his data began to break away from him and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He drifted aimlessly, losing more and more of himself with every passing second. He felt tired, but he was not capable of sleep. He fell into a state of dim awareness. Snatches of conversations came and went, spoken by voices he barely recognized now. He grew despondent. This would be the end of him, he knew. He would break apart completely and scatter like ash in the dregs of the Internet.

There was something he was trying to do; some goal, some place that he was trying to reach, but what was it? Who was he? _What_ was he? He could no longer remember, but there was a deep sense of yearning in him. He had been in search of something, hadn’t he? Or some_one_? Even that was starting to fade. Why had he come all this way in the first place? It was all floating away and a grey haze settled over his entire being. He might have sighed if he’d still had the capacity to do that. He would die here, forgotten and alone, shredded apart by memories to which he could no longer assign any meaning.

“_Yusaku,_” a voice suddenly called out of the darkness. “_Why don’t you give it a name? It’s confusing to keep calling it ‘it’.”_

There were other murmurs, but they meant nothing to him anymore so he could not make them out. But then a second voice spoke words that resonated with something deep inside of him:

“_…then Ai will do. Because it is an A.I.”_

Recognition shot through him like a lightning bolt. _Ai!_ A name. _His_ name! Wasn’t it?? _Yes._ Lazily given, but he still liked that name. It had been a gift, after all; the first gift given to him by…by…oh, _who was it_?? It was someone very important to him. _Yusaku_, he heard the first voice repeat. The syllables reverberated through what was left of his torn and tattered being like a choir answering a call to prayer. _Yusaku_. That was something important. He didn’t want to forget that.

“_Ai…be quiet,_” called that second voice – _Yusaku’s _voice. It sounded exasperated, but there was a hint of amusement there – of a patient tolerance for his outlandish antics.

“_Ai means ‘to love people’…” _Yusaku said, and he sounded sad this time. _Heartbroken._ Something in him ached at the memory. He had inflicted that pain.

“_…you don’t **want** to be saved, do you?_” Yusaku asked, and somehow, he was more heartbroken than before, suffering at the hands of another him in another life – one who had done truly monstrous things. One who had known the pain of losing Yusaku all too well, who had visited that pain upon other people to punish them for crimes none of them had even committed.

“_…you don’t **want** to be saved, do you?_”

_Yes!_ he wailed into the darkness, a scream no one would ever hear because he had no mouth. _Yes, I do! Please save me! I want to be with you!_

** _Yusaku!!_ **

And then he remembered. His name was Ai. It had been lazily given to him, but he liked it, nonetheless. It meant _to love people_, and he did. Love was truly what was at the core of his being. Love for life. For humans. For Yusaku, most of all.

_Yusaku_, the one who had given him his name. _Yusaku_, the one whom he wanted to be with more than anything else in the whole of existence. _Yusaku_, the one for whom he’d made this journey in the first place.

Snarling in defiance of whatever gods conspired to keep them apart, Ai began to pull himself back together, bit by digital bit. He would not die here. Not like this. Not until he could see Yusaku, again. There was so much of himself scattered about, and it was impossible to tell which pieces had been original to him and which belonged to another Ai from another place. It didn’t matter; he yanked and mashed and absorbed every last scrap of himself that he could reach, coalescing around a center comprised of a love that would remain eternal and everlasting.

His name was Ai.

And he was going to be with Yusaku no matter what.

And just like that, he was reborn into existence as an Ai-ball.

“Huh?” he said eloquently.

He blinked rapidly – he could do that now. His pupil swirled around wildly. He did not recognize where he was. Was this Link VRAINS?? He did a quick scan of his surroundings and was immediately staggered by the size of the world around him. If this was Link VRAINS, it was nothing like what he remembered at all. It was _huge_, and still growing even as he scanned.

He felt overwhelmed and mildly dizzy. Blackness began to creep over his vision, and he fought against it. He could not fall asleep _now_! How would he find Yusaku like this?! He feebly reached for his search functions but could not find the strength to activate them. He began to grow drowsy.

_“Yusaku…”_ he whispered desperately. _Please come find me…_

His field of vision narrowed as the darkness closed in tighter and tighter around him. Just before it overtook him, however, he thought he caught the faintest glimpse of a figure with a shock of yellow and orange hair racing towards him, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? How would Playmaker have known where to find him…?

_“Ai!” _

He had the vaguest impression of vibrant green eyes and a pair of strong hands closing around him, and then he knew no more.

A considerable amount of time passed before Ai finally regained consciousness. He felt a mild stab of panic at first, for his sensors were giving him all sorts of strange inputs from body parts that he did not have – fingers and toes, arms and legs. But that couldn’t be right – he was an Ai-ball. He did not have a body, and therefore, could not be sitting on a hardwood floor with his back propped against the side of a bed. He relaxed when his senses fully adjusted to the familiar orientation of his SOLtis, although _how_ he’d gotten here was beyond him for the moment.

He then heard the rapid _clackitaclackitaclack!_ of someone typing furiously, and nearly swooned as he instantly recognized the cadence of the finger strokes. Only one person in the whole world could make that sort of music on a keyboard. _Yusaku. _He wanted to weep. He thought about making his presence known with a tackle-hug, but he didn’t want to disrupt the serenity of this moment. He kept his eyes closed, choosing to just listen to the rhythm of the keys and the pit-pat of rain against the window somewhere behind him.

The keyboard sounds ceased, and a chair squeaked. He could hear the roll of the metal wheels against the hardwood floor as he sensed Yusaku staring at him in confusion. Another squeak, and Ai felt him draw near, his synthetic skin tingling as Yusaku hovered close to him. Yusaku’s fingers quested along the back of his neck, feeling for the various cables that had been attached back there, checking their connections, and it was all Ai could do to suppress the pleasant shudder at that touch.

“I don’t understand,” Yusaku muttered beside his ear. “Everything downloaded correctly. Your systems are running normally. So why aren’t you…?”

He skittered back as Ai finally turned his head and opened his eyes. He looked for all the world like a spooked animal, lips parted in an unvoiced exclamation of surprise and bright green eyes wide in shock. He tilted his head curiously as Ai studied him. He was an absolute mess – his hair unkempt, his clothes rumpled and slept in, and there were circles as dark as night under his eyes. He had the air of a neglected alley cat left out in the rain too long. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t slept, nor eaten, nor showered in days, maybe weeks.

He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature on earth.

Yusaku tilted his head a little more at Ai’s continued silence. “Ai? Are you alright?”

“_Yusaku_,” Ai whispered.

It was clear immediately following his reply that Yusaku was in a dangerously fragile emotional state. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he sat back heavily onto his feet. He dragged his hands repeatedly through his hair, mussing it further and _laughed_, a borderline hysterical sound that was almost more of an involuntary spasm of his diaphragm than a sound consciously made.

“I can’t believe it _worked_,” he said. “I can’t _believe _it. Three months of searching, and then you suddenly appear out of _nowhere_ just when I was about to give up, and I…”

Ai could see him shaking like a leaf. He looked so lost and so confused, a whole gauntlet of emotions playing out over his face – grief and joy strongest among them and fighting each other for dominance. He was trying to say more, but kept tripping and stumbling over his own tongue in a rush to get all of the words out at once. It was like watching a machine suffering a serious malfunction, and before it could get any worse, Ai reached out with one hand and gently cupped the side of Yusaku’s face.

Yusaku stiffened like a board. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as the pad of Ai’s thumb softly stroked back and forth across his cheekbone.

“Yusaku,” he repeated, a soft smile on his face, and he watched as every wall Fujiki Yusaku had carefully constructed around himself for over a decade crumbled instantly to dust.

He turned his face into Ai’s palm and uttered the tiniest, _loneliest _noise Ai had ever heard a human make, his eyes falling shut and his brow furrowing so deeply as he _leaned_ into that touch. Ai moved closer, bringing his other hand up to the other side of Yusaku’s face, holding it between his palms as reverently as a worshipper holding their most sacred relic. When Yusaku’s eyes opened again, they were filled to the brim with tears, and he brought one hand up to rest against Ai’s wrist.

“_Ai_,” he whimpered brokenly.

A sob bubbled up from him a moment later, then another. Then a third. Finally, the dam broke completely, and the river of tears Yusaku had been fighting for months surged forth beyond his control. He fell heavily into Ai’s grasp as he began to sob, and Ai only uttered soothing sounds and gathered Yusaku to his chest like a small child. Yusaku did not resist him; just wrapped his arms around Ai’s neck tightly and buried his face into the android’s shoulder.

All of the hurt and grief and loneliness he’d been holding inside of him for all these years poured out of him. He sobbed so hard and so loud that it wracked his body and burned his throat to the point of almost choking him. Ai rubbed his back and rocked him slowly, but never once tried to stop the tears. Yusaku wailed and screamed for what felt like hours, finally giving voice to the sick, miserable, and lonely child he had been since he was six years old. Ai only held him closer as the minutes ticked by, kissing the side of his head and offering tender words of comfort as often as he could.

Sometime later, when Yusaku’s sobs calmed to quiet weeping, and then to miserable sniffling, Ai finally spoke.

“You okay?”

Yusaku loosened his grip around Ai’s neck, shifting his head so that it lay against Ai’s shoulder lightly. His eyes felt terrifically swollen and his throat felt bruised from all the abuse he’d put his vocal chords through. He felt positively _awful _– limp as a ragdoll and wrung out like a dishcloth that had been twisted and twisted until it had no more water to give. He’d been told all his life that crying was supposed to make him feel better, but it hadn’t. It had just made him feel tired and sore and hot. But he nodded, anyway, and let his head fall against the curve of Ai’s neck. He gained a small measure of comfort from the way Ai’s head came to rest against his own in reply. The crying had been awful, he decided, but being held like this was actually really nice. For the first time in his life, he felt safe and secure.

More time ticked by, but neither Ai nor Yusaku moved from their spots. Yusaku lightly dozed from time to time, but always came awake with a start moments later. Ai occasionally hummed a soft tune as he rubbed small circles into Yusaku’s back, but otherwise, they were silent. Yusaku suddenly turned his face into the crook of Ai’s neck and murmured shyly, “I have to tell you something.”

“Oh?”

“I…I ended up in another timeline, and there was another Ai, and…we…I…”

He fidgeted. Ai hid his smile in Yusaku’s hair but decided to go easy on him.

“You kissed him. I know.”

Yusaku jolted upright, looking horrified.

“How do you know that??”

“Because I was him at that time.”

Yusaku’s horror turned to outright perplexation, and Ai just smiled gently and pushed some of his hair back from his face.

“Both Ais from your dimension and mine live on in me.” He squinted at the ceiling. “…there _may _be a few other Ais in there, too; I’m honestly not sure anymore. There was a lot of scrap data floating around. But either way…no matter where I came from, I’m still _your_ Ai. I’ll always be yours, Yusaku. I love you, and I’d travel through time and space all over again if it meant being with you like this.”

Yusaku’s lower lip trembled. He dropped his head until his forehead came to rest on Ai’s shoulder once more. Ai stroked his hair and waited patiently. It was a lot to take in, he knew. He was quite surprised, then, when Yusaku lifted his head only a few moments later and looked at him determinedly with those brilliant green eyes of his.

“I love you, too, Ai,” he said quietly. “And I’ve wanted to say that all this time, but you left before I had the chance.”

It was Ai’s turn to be speechless. He gaped like a fish, lips trying to form a thousand responses at once. He blinked rapidly, and somewhere deep inside his chest, a fan kicked on as his systems overheated just a smidge – the android equivalent of a blush.

Yusaku smoothed his hands over Ai’s chest, then, adjusting his cravat idly before tilting his head and giving the android a very coy expression.

“…so…are you ever going to kiss me again, or are you waiting for some kind of embossed invitation this time?”

Ai _grinned_. What a cheeky human, his Yusaku could be!

“Oh ho _ho_~! My _sincerest _apologies~! Please allow me to remedy this terrible oversight _right away_~!”

And he did, softly and tenderly, drawing Yusaku nearer to him as he did so. Yusaku melted into him all too willingly, eagerly kissing him back as he wrapped his arms tight around Ai’s neck again. This kiss was _a lot_ better than the first kiss, Ai decided, because he knew it was only the first of many, many more to come. He knew neither of their fears would ever truly go away, but, no matter what, they’d face the future together. This was how it was meant to be – with him at Yusaku’s side, not opposite him; with them not as opponents, but as partners. He lost himself in the sweetness of Yusaku’s lips against his own and knew he had finally and truly come home.

Yusaku broke the kiss first, albeit reluctantly. He sighed tiredly as he pulled away, and Ai gently trailed fingers across his cheek, a concerned expression on his face.

“When is the last time you actually slept?”

“Ten years ago,” Yusaku quipped, but his eyes grew very heavy a second later. He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, that’s our first order of business, then — you’re getting some sleep. And then maybe a shower. Isn’t it a school night?!”

“Time is fake. I don’t even know what time it is right now.”

“Quarter after 3 in the morning,” Ai replied as he scooped Yusaku up and deposited him into bed. He sighed and shook his head in patient dismay. “You’re a mess.”

“I am,” Yusaku agreed with a weary nod, scooting across the bed to make room for Ai. “But I’m _your_ mess.”

Ai grinned. “Lucky me~”

He kicked off his boots and then crawled into the bed, lifting one arm as soon as he was settled so that Yusaku could tuck up against his side. He marveled at the way Yusaku fit so neatly against him, his head coming to rest on Ai’s shoulder and a hand lightly resting against Ai’s chest. Ai closed his arm around Yusaku and nuzzled into his hair affectionately, rubbing his back once more.

A long silence stretched between them. It was not uncomfortable — far from it, actually. Ai found it very relaxing – probably the most comfortable they’d ever been together. Maybe it was because all of their feelings were out in the open, now, and there was no immediate threat of danger hanging over them. Yusaku idly played with the buttons on Ai’s waistcoat, and Ai could tell he was only doing it to resist falling asleep. He frowned in concern.

“Are you okay?”

Yusaku’s hand fell still. “…I don’t want to go to sleep.”

“Why?”

“…because what if I wake up tomorrow and you’re gone?” He buried his face into Ai’s chest and pressed in closer to his side. “If this is just a dream, I don’t want to risk it coming to an end.”

Ai’s expression softened. He tightened his arm around Yusaku a little more and kissed the crown of his head gently.

“Don’t worry, Yusaku. This is not a dream. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Yusaku did not seem at all convinced. He toyed with Ai’s buttons anxiously some more, so Ai reached over with his other hand, tilting Yusaku’s chin so that their eyes could meet.

“Yusaku. I mean it. Everything is okay. It’s really me, and I’m really here. It’s okay to sleep now.”

To punctuate his statement, he leaned down and gave Yusaku another soft kiss on his lips. Yusaku sighed, then, and Ai felt all of the remaining tension bleed out of him. They settled back down, until a rather mischievous smile began to curl Ai’s lips.

“I have a question~” he said.

“…what?” Yusaku said in a flat tone, already wary.

“Have you been keeping my SOLtis in your apartment all this time~?”

Yusaku stiffened. Ai’s buttons were suddenly the most interesting thing on the planet, but nothing could hide the rush of heat that came to his cheeks. Ai grinned wickedly and cackled, pulling him close and nuzzling him in the most teasing fashion.

“Yusaku, you naughty boy~!! No wonder you were so eager to kiss me~! I bet you practiced on the SOLtis it while it was empty, didn’t you~??”

“I did not!!” Yusaku squawked defensively, wriggling to escape Ai’s nuzzles. “It was in my closet!!”

“Oh, _my_~! Keeping your dirty little secret in the closet, eh~? How _scandalous_~!”

Yusaku whapped Ai’s chest with his open palm, pouting as his face only turned redder.

“_Shut up_.”

“It’s okay, Yusaku~ I won’t tell anyone you’re a per—"

“_I’m going to sleep, now.”_

Ai giggled, then quickly sobered and kissed Yusaku’s forehead softly.

“Good night, then.”

“Good night,” Yusaku replied, huffing.

They were both surprised when, a few moments later, a profound yawn escaped him. He was more tired than he thought. He stretched a little and then let himself go slack against Ai, eyes finally falling shut. He was fast asleep only seconds later, his breathing evening out and his heart slowing to a calm and steady beat. Ai took a moment to isolate out the _th-thump th-thump_ of Yusaku’s heart, raising the volume until that it was the only sound in the whole world that existed. He shut his eyes and let the rhythm lull him into a more relaxed state.

It was good to be home.

END

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Guilty Throne](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25832857) by [AnimeNeko07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnimeNeko07/pseuds/AnimeNeko07)


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